To My Burden Of Years
by nile-reina
Summary: During his final summer with the Dursleys, Harry reveals his inner demons to paper in hopes of understanding and releasing the burdens he carries as he waits to fulfill a promise...HarryGinny all cannon pairings
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **To My Burden Of Years

**Author: **nilereina

**Pairing: **(implied) James/Lily, Vernon/Petunia, Harry/Ginny, Hermione/Ron, Hermione/Viktor, Ron/Lavender, Ginny/Dean

**Rating: **M

**Archive: **FFN, Unique Realities

**Summary: **There is one more year left to school at Hogwarts but Harry has decided not to attend, determined to uphold his promise to his mentor, Headmaster Albus Dumbledore...But as he waits for his seventeenth birthday, he decides to try his hand at unloading his burdens...Through a journal, he begins to record the last sixteen years of his life as he remembers them...With every entry created, he unloads his thoughts, questions, observations, fears, and memories...Things no one has ever known about Harry Potter or could possibly answer

**Warnings/Disclaimers: **HP characters belong to J.K. Rowling...Time line has been based on and credited to The Harry Potter Lexicon (as well as any information I possibly needed for clarification as well as Books 1-6)...M/F relationships according to Rowling...Spoilers for Books 1-6 and Movies 1-4...AU setting for Book 7...Situations of violence, bloodshed, torture, child neglect...Mostly Journal Format

**Author Notes: **AU setting takes place during summer break before Seventh Year (during the last week of July around Harry's seventeenth birthday)...Some direct quotes will be from Rowling's books (footnotes with the appropriate information are credited Rowling)...I won't always use the same details of the books; those details may possibly come from the movies (ex: Hagrid won't send Harry the Monster book...He'll receive it from Fudge when the Minister buys his books in POA)

**Author Notes2: **Titles of the books used in Harry's journal are credited to J.K. Rowling (just a summarized thought of Harry's year in his belief)...Some details will be glossed over or completely missed while others will go in depth (I did try containing the more important details...It's possible some that are glossed over or missed will appear in other chapters)...There are deliberate mistakes to give a reality of Harry writing a journal with ink (not everyone writes with a pencil and eraser...and it is very possible to make mistakes)...Some events will fall in random order while other events may be interrupted by chaotic thoughts, observations, and questions and still other events may be in sequence

**Author Notes3: **There may be a seventh year entry based on Book 7...Depending on the conclusion of the HP series and if anyone wishes, I may rewrite the summer Harry had before his seventeenth birthday...The rewrite of the this story may include Book 7 or Book 7's entry may be a complete different story (depending on what my reviewers would like to see)

**Key Code: **

_Blah_-- Harry's thoughts, Emphasis

_//Blah//_-- Journal entries

//"Blah"//-- Quotes

**Blah**-- Yelling/Screaming

Blah-- Mispellings/mistakes in Journal

**Chapter One**

Entrenched in dancing shadows from a single burning candle, sat a lone teen, staring out his barred bedroom window. He was bored. Bored and locked inside his bedroom. For the twelfth time, he glanced at the red numbers of a partially broken alarm clock. _Four a.m. Only three more hours to breakfast._ He sighed heavily, returning to his heavy thoughts. He had three more hours to spare, to entertain himself, before his aunt would unlock his door so he could prepare breakfast.

Breakfast. This was a very big meal, besides dinner, in his relatives' house. Each morning he rose early to have it ready by seven in the morning, before his uncle headed off to work and his cousin off to where-ever, sometimes even his aunt would take off. They all left him behind, having the neighbors watching the house or sending him off to a _babysitter_.

Besides, it took some time to prepare breakfast. He always made the same just with a few changes every other day. Sometimes it was fried eggs, others scrambled, and even omelets were created. Along with the eggs came crispy bacon, pancakes with fruit inside, buttered and jelly toast, fresh brewed coffee, freshly squeezed orange juice. That was just for his uncle. His aunt liked a slice of toast, a cup of juice, several cups of coffee, and freshly sliced fruit salad. His cousin was another story. Sure he liked having the same as his father but with extra. _Seems they stop the dieting. Boy, will he be barely able to walk without waddling like a duck._

He snorted, trying to hold in his laughter, spit flying from the corners of his mouth. If he was correct, today his cousin would demand a side order of sausages and waffles with syrup, whip cream, and chocolate chips. _I think fried potatoes are for tomorrow._ He sighed heavily, wishing he had the list now but he wouldn't know breakfast's agenda until his door was unlocked.

For now, he suffered as sleep refused to arrive. _Maybe now will be good._ He glanced down at a small, tattered, blue journal. A single finger ran over the raised golden elaborate letters. _L.E.'s Secrets. I can't believe I found her!_ Earlier that summer, he had been cleaning out the attic when he accidentally dropped a crumbling box. The contents spilled out, revealing photos of his mother and aunt. Buried beneath the scraps and loose photos was the journal. He had taken it, stuffing it beneath his oversized shirt, hoping to read it later.

He enjoyed learning of his mother's first years at home and then school. Made him feel closer to her as he learned more about his father from others. Swallowing, he reverently opened to the very last page she had written on, starting his own words upon the next empty page. Carefully he dipped his quill in to ink, not willing to lose a single drop, allowing his jumbled thoughts to flow free. _Here goes nothing._

_//July 25th 4:15 a.m._

_My Past, Present, Future July 31, 1980-July 31, 1991 Birth to 11 yrs. old_

_Some say that writing makes everything better, helps ease tension when words cannot be used or understood. Another once told me to always write what I know. How does one write what they know when things are crossed and jumbled? Tied tightly in knots, nimble fingers working away. Well, perhaps it is time I work my way through and around the knots of my mind. Perhaps it is time to speak out. Perhaps it is time I release this burden._

_My name is Harry James Potter. The only child of Lily Evans-Potter and James Potter. An orphan living with his only breathing relatives. More of that later._

_I was born on July 31, 1980. And if I'm not mistaking, thats that's about six days away from now as I write. I shall turn seventeen, be of age in my world. And finally able to leave behind half of the history I know as a nightmare. There isn't much of my past from birth to barely over a year can be told. What I do know is what little I can remember in my dreams, barely even able to recall such things when I wake. _

_My parents died on October 31, 1981. Until I was eleven I didn't know the truth. According to my relatives, my parents died in a car crash. I was the only survivor, a scar upon my forehead the only testament to the fatal crash._

_I don't remember much of my life with my relatives, the Dursleys. I blocked most of it out or remember only the bad. Petunia Evans-Dursley. My aunt from my mother's side. Vernon Dursley. My uncle through marriage. Dudley Dursley. Their precious baby boy, my cousin. They believed themselves the perfect family. The working husband. The doting wife. The obedient son._

_I saw them as this: The verbally abusive uncle. The neglectful aunt. The bullying cousin. I was the one...in their minds...that ruined their perfect image. I was the unwanted nephew...cousin._

_When my parents died, I came in to my aunt's care. How or why? That I hadn't understand either. At least not yet. They did but refused to let me in on that little secret. Petunia cared for me enough to keep me alive, barely. I spent ten and a half years beneath the stairs. A cramped little cupboard. My sanctuary. My punishment. My bedroom. But it was mine._

_Never like me. They were always saying so. Never failed to let me know how they felt. Especially Dudley. _

_Dudley. The boy is F.A.T.!!!! Why can't they see that? They call him big-boned. A perfect gentleman. Just fine. Healthy. They don't seem to care that he is eating himself into a grave. An early grave. Every time I turn about, he's eating! Or bullying! You'd think with the so-called exercise of chasing children smaller than him, weaker, would slim him down. But it's like it helps make him fatter._

_I swim in his clothes. Hanging off my thin form. All my clothes are hand-me-downs. All from Dudley. When he gains new, I get the old. Worn thin. Huge. Sometimes ragged and torn. I do my best to stitch the tears, knowing I need that clothing to last me. Been times they must last until two years later._

_Bullies. Oh, how I hate them. Never knowing such blood lived within my own family. Bullies make life terrible. Dudley is one. He and his little gang. It is they who keep me isolated. No friends. No trust. No companionship. No life._

_Vernon did the rest._

'Harry Hunting'_...a game. Similar to tag or hide-n-seek. A way to torment me to their enjoyment. How I hate that Smelting stick. Hurts when struck._

_Neglect and starvation. Petunia's specialty I guess. Or maybe it's just me. Is that normal? Does everyone treat their unwanted _pests_ that way? If they didn't want someone living with them, couldn't another family member take them? Why force them to stay? Why keep something unwanted? Petunia had no problem throwing out broken toys, ruined food. She willingly tossed out unwanted items, selling them off or giving them away. So, why keep me?_

_Was there other family? I don't ever remember visiting a grandmother or grandfather. Or an aunt, an uncle, a cousin. No godmother, godfather. Was she an orphan too? Was my mother the only one left of their family? What about Vernon's? I only know Marge Dursley...my so-called aunt on his side. Don't like her either. And she refuses to like me, always having rude comments or desires to toss me out. I believe if she could, I'd be gone within the moment I arrived._

_Chores and more chores. Seemed all I was good for. School wasn't much any more. I thought it to be a change of scenery, a chance to shine. But I would be locked away in my cupboard for being better than their perfect Dudley. I pulled back. Then again, my punishments consisted of scraps to eat or nothing and my cupboard for a day or so. Didn't pull back too often, if rarely._

_Forgotten chores...perfect grades...weren't my only reasons of punishment. If I did anything _freaky, _at least according to Vernon, I was punished. Never did understand that whole line _"any funny business, any at all"(1) _but it didn't always matter. After all, I was usually blamed for such things: my hair growing back after being practically sheared off...climbing buildings when I found myself on the roof trying to hide behind trashcans from Dudley._

_Ah, but now I could explain it. Then I couldn't. No more than I could about the glass vanishing. I swore it could have been magic and Vernon could barely speak through the rage. Once again, I was banned to my cupboard for a long time._

_How I wanted friends. Maybe if I had them then I wouldn't be _freaky._ Perhaps I would be normal and they would accept me. But all they did was ruin me. They wanted their reputation clean and respectful. They allowed the neighborhood to believe I was brought in their home out of the kindness of their hearts. Giving me a cupboard to sleep, scraps to eat, over-sized clothing to wear._

_St. Brutus' Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys. A mouthful. But supposedly my new school. For good reason. I vanished during nine months of the year only to return summer holidays._

_The truth had come to haunt. Around my eleventh birthday. I remember waking and sitting at the kitchen table. Mail call. Among the letters was one for me: _

"Mr. H. Potter

The Cupboard Under the Stairs

4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging

Surrey" (2)

_How did this person know where I slept? How did they know of my exact place of residence? Who sent it? Why not leave an address label of the sender? All I saw was some weird stamp on the flap of envelope. A part of me excited, the other confused. Who knew me enough to send me a letter in hopes I would recognize it? Were there people watching me? Why did they contact me now? Why not come for me earlier?_

_And the Dursleys knew. One look at that weird stamp and they clammed up tighter than a snare drum. Vernon did everything to keep the letters away. He blocked the mail slot. They laid by the stoop. He burned them. But they still came down the chimney, when there was no fire.. Finally we fled...place to place. No good. Letters came...addressed to me. Each with the place I slept and where I was._

_I was always curious of lighthouses. Tall buildings dedicated to aide the ships at sea. Lights revolving in hopes they would see to avoid collision with land. A tiny bedroom and small living room below the tower with the huge light bulb. Petunia and Vernon took the only bed. Dudley took the only couch. Me, the dirt covered floor._

_I was eleven. Laying on the ground and drawing an outline of a cake with candles. Watching Dudley's wrist-watch for the time...midnight. How I wished for a grand party. Huge birthday cake...lots of presents...games...laughter...friends. My dream that may never come true. How is it that Dudley gets what he wants and I never could? What was so different about me? What was it that made them hate me? How does Dudley know who I am? Why won't they tell me?_

_My happy birthday. To me. And my surprise, the truth. Through the door it came. Or should I say _he_ came?_

"Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts." (3) _A huge man bearing an even larger pink umbrella. A man carrying my letter. It was he who began the truth. He who showed me that my dreams were a reality._

_My first friend the Dursleys couldn't keep away._

_Stunned me speechless. I thought he was lying. He had to be, right? Vernon always said magic wasn't real. So, who was right? Turned out, Hagrid. His umbrella created fire that night. Right before my eyes. Magic was real. And I, I was a magical being called a wizard._

_In one night my world shattered._

_Why couldn't they tell me? Why hide it? But it was what they wanted. Car crash...drunks...unemployed...lazy. Words all my life describing my parents. That night it was: _"I was the only one to see her as she was--a freak!" (4)

_Freaks. What a word to describe magic. Unnatural...weird...abnormal. Words fed in to my own soul._

_Truth. A madman murdered my family. A wizard bent on domination. Dursleys knew. Knew Mum married a wizard. Then was murdered._

_A powerful Dark Lord. One I supposedly defeated, but not know how. How could a tiny infant defeat some thing that powerful? How is that even possible? Those in the Muggle world would be asking the same. Are the wizards and witches insane or what? Wouldn't be for a while I'd learn part of the truth...even then I was a bit skeptica._

_The Boy Who Lived. What crock is that? So I survived. Everyday there are survivors from fatal disasters. Big deal. Something we see everyday on the television...on the news...on the radio...in the paper. At age eleven I find myself a symbol...a sign...a saint. Someone to chase the haunting shadows. A so-called paragon 9oof goodness._

_I wonder. If I had declined my offer, would another school call on me? Then again who wouldn't want the fame of teaching Famous Harry Potter. What exactly is fame? What can it really get you? Friends you never knew? Offers who'd never come around if I wasn't rich or famous? Would anyone befriend me if I was Just Harry? Someone with a family, a true family? Someone not connected to fame or wanting to be connected? Would they want me if I was a nobody? Just a regular kid going to school to learn and going home to relatives? An orphan?_

_Then there's He Who Must Not Be Named...You Know Who...no, I don't know who. Who is that? Does he not have a name? Was he born nameless? How can they believe everyone knows who? I mean someone's bound not to know, right? Then I learn his name. Voldemort. Lord Voldemort. Dark Lord Voldemort. Everyone's bogeyman within the magical world. So-called scary man. Say his name and he comes calling._

_Do they honestly believe that? It's like urban legends. Turn out the lights...say the name...and that person comes._

_Ronald Weasley was like that. Feared saying a name. My second friend but first best friend. I had no Dudley bullying him, no Vernon saying I was a criminal. He preferred Ron. Over time I learned of his family. Bill, the oldest, works at Gringotts. A curse-breaker. Sounds interesting. Wonder what they do exactly? Perhaps I should ask the next time I see Bill. Charlie, the second oldest, works at Romania. A dragon keeper. Ah, him I met but in my Fourth Year. A dangerous career but all the well interesting as curse-breaker. Percy, the third oldest, works (now) at the Ministry. Was Head Boy in school, even Prefect. A stickler for rules and thorough research. On the outs with family. Fred and George, the identical twins, pranks galore. Loved a good joke and worshipped the Marauders. They made life entertaining, even used their gift as payback. They left Hogwarts by my Sixth Year, opening a joke shop. Ron, the youngest boy, my best friend. A Quidditch obsessed boy, hot-tempered, but reliable. Then there's Ginny, the youngest, the only girl of the family. Like her brothers; Ron, Fred, and George, she became my friend...I became her crush, her loving obsession...Soon I saw her the same way._

_How I wanted a family. I think I would have given up everything just for a chance. I still remember the awe and astonishment of Ron, _"Are you really Harry Potter?" (5)

_Hermione Granger. A bit bossy, rule-abiding, studious. But she, too, became a friend. My second best friend. Never thought I'd have one friend, let alone three. She was the daughter of two Muggle dentists. Ron the son of a stay-at-home Mum and a Ministry worker father. Wish I knew what my Mum and Dad did. Maybe I can get someone to tell me what they did or wanted to do instead of telling me what they were like or acted._

_James Potter. My father. A Pureblood wizard. Pureblood only meant that the magical line never went outside...never strayed. A bloodline that always remains within magical blood. Never marrying outside their status. Much like Muggles. Imagine my surprise to learn new words. Muggles are non-magical._

_Non-magical. How is that possible? If Muggles are non-magical then how are Muggleborns created? They have magic just not the access. Then again, they do. Talent...superb luck...intuition...Muggle seers. Magic accessed to that point._

_How do they not notice? So alike and they don't realize._

_Purebloods. Rich Society. Both care about their money, their status, their _nobility._ They believed they were above everyone. Snobbish. Married only another of same status. Arranged marriages. Tracing backgrounds for the perfect match. Don't believe in fate or love. Only money and higher status. Family always of money and status...Purebloods always of magic and status. How ironic._

_Half-bloods. Jocks and Cheerleaders. Have the status but not much else. Tolerable in _high _society. Possible leaders...high money earners. Try for higher positions with the rich...able to rub elbows with famous. Family with love of sports and sports alone. Wanting scholarships if money not enough. Desiring impressive schools and resumes. (half magical...half muggle... one parent from each side marrying)_

_Muggleborns. Intellectuals and Brainiacs. Barely tolerable but well-known for their _services._ Accountants...Book-keepers...Lawyers...Judges...and more. They are the ones keeping the world-go-round. But not desired for any marriageable match. Just needed for various reasons to keep themselves clean or to organize their lives._

_Squibs. Magical blood but little ability. They were much like Muggles. A shameful secret in the family. The ones who hear and know everything. The ones who hide in the shadows. The servants...the peasants...the gold diggers rising high. They learn and remember. They struggle to be like others in society...struggle to survive period._

_James Potter was a part of the Pureblood society. More like the black sheep within it. From what I learned, he wasn't much for tradition but love. Especially when it came to Lily Evans. He was the Heir to a powerful family, a prestigious Light family. Same family I will soon be the Head of as I am the only Potter left. I wonder. Have they truly looked for others or just assume? How do we know they aren't hiding some place? How do we know they are trying to protect themselves or their family or their children? What makes us think I'm the last if people assume or haven't thoroughly checked?_

_Light. Dark. What a magical way of saying Good and Evil. But don't they say you can't have one without the other. Maybe they haven't gotten the memo yet. It's a balance destined to be kept. _

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. A magical school to train witches and wizards. James Potter went from a no-good drunk to a high placed Pureblood. At age eleven, he received a letter to attend school. What exactly do Purebloods learn before they're eleven? Is it politics? Running the family business? Preparing for classes? Can they actually use magic at home when underage? Are there ways to work around Ministry wards and laws?_

_Seven years. At his side, three best friends. The four became a well-known group called the Marauders. Playing pranks on anyone and everyone they could. Laughs they could afford and enjoyed. Everyone seemed to praise them. But one man willingly took the stand. He refused to allow me to continue thinking...believing...that James Potter was an untouchable God. James Potter was also a bully. One student during his year was his constant target for pranks...humiliation abound. That student suffered beneath the _hilarious _touch of James Potter, Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, and Remus Lupin. Then again all I ever heard was James Potter and Sirius Black being the true bullies._

_All schools have rivalries...Hogwarts was one. They pushed and pushed until it came to head. From what I learned, James regretted those moments. Besides the regrets and pranks there was one other thing that James pursued...Lily Evans. At first the two hated each other...disliked each other's attitude. James loved having fun. Lily was studious. But some time during their last year, love bloomed._

_I have rivalries. Draco Malfoy...though he seems more as Ron's adversary than mine. They spend more time battling each other. Malfoy/Weasley feud. Explosive when either are near the other. One thinking he was better because of status and money...the other happy with what he has but would like money. Both hating based on bad blood. _

_Does the world realize what they learn and teach their children? Don't the parents know that it is their fault their child goes bad at times? They teach to hate what they hate. It happens in the Muggle world. Race, color, culture, status, sex, sexual orientation, appearance, background. Ironic, is it not? Magical world hates the same...but with big words: Creature...Bloodline...Affiliations._

_Lily Evans. A Muggleborn. Talented and powerful. A sweet girl with a temper and the ability to back it up. She came from a small family. Mother...Father...Sister, Petunia. Lily forged ahead to prove herself as a witch among those who hate. Her family was lost to the war or at least that's what I was led to believe. Petunia hated everything to do with magic, wanting nothing to do with Lily and her world._

_What do the Muggleborns say? At age eleven, an owl arrives with a letter of acceptance. All children start school by age five but those chose by eleven never return to middle school, let alone high school. How do their parents explain the absence? We do have truant officers and schools alert the authorities. Does anyone explain to the parents that the letter isn't a joke?_

_How does the Ministry deal with them? If they wish to return to the Muggle world, how is it possible? Can they regain their schooling? Get a degree with a rocky background? What if the letter is declined? Would another school offer? Can more than one offer come through? Can someone decline just to decline? Accidental magic mixed with emotions is difficult, possibly dangerous. How could one decline with that problem? Can it be blocked?_

_And maybe I'll kn never know._

_What I do know is that some time after they graduated, Lily and James married. Shortly after, Lily was pregnant and years months later a baby boy was born. Around the same time, they had gone in to hiding. A Dark wizard was looking for them. Voldemort was hunting them. Or hunting those against him and his ideals._

_On Octer October 31, 1981, they had been found. James Potter murdered first, believed to have been trying to protect his family or give them time run. Lily raced for her son, soon confronting Voldemort. She begged for mercy, murdered for her trouble. When the wand was pointed to baby Harry, something went wrong. Voldemort was banished and little Harry was the only survivor. Later placed with his only living relatives, the Dursleys._

_Narrow-minded and stubborn. That's the magical world. Set upon a pedestal I was. Fell several times. I want to leave. Instead I think. Think of how the Dursleys would react if they learned of my fortune. It'll pay my way through school and classes. Anything else I wish._

_How do Muggleborns pay their way? Do they even receive a vault? Does the Ministry pay? Or will the parents exchange Muggle money? What about Half-bloods? When does the magical spouse reveal their secret? Do they even reveal at all until the letter? How is the child affected? Are they taught anything or kept oblivious? Why can't we, the ignorant ones of a new world, be taught the basics? Why isn't there a class teaching us the ways of the magical world? I'm mean, they have a Muggle Studies! Why not Magical Studies? Big deal, they have a history class. That teaches us Muggleborns and Muggle raised nothing._

_Ah, but daylight has broken above the horizon. Breakfast awaits shortly. One day I hope to fully know the answers._

_Mum, Dad. Are you proud yet? I may not remember much but I have you in my heart.//_

Harry sighed pleasurably as he stretched cramped muscles, unfolding from his chair. Yawning, he began to carefully pack away his items, blowing the last few words of ink dry. Reaching into the hole in his bedroom floor, he drew out the soft folds of his invisibility cloak. Quill, inkwell, and journal were wrapped in a loose section of the cloak. Then all were gently replaced before he stood. "Time to play the House elf, Harry. Breakfast and chores to be done."

Footnote: Quotes from J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone...Quote 1: Page 24...Quote 2: Page 34...Quote 3: Page 48...Quote 4: Page53...Quote 5: Page 98


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Sunset was just setting and Harry had yet to finish his weeding. An hour before the Dursleys had left Petunia had demanded her _precious_ garden to be spotless. Vernon had gruffly _told_ Harry to remain outside until it was done. _Remain outside until done, right. He locked me out. Wouldn't want the freak loose inside._ Harry snickered at his thoughts; they were correct though.

Emerald eyes flickered from garden to the locked house, g_oing to be a long night. _Vernon had been invited to the company dinner party at Grunnings. Something about celebrating a special account. Harry didn't really understand, didn't care much for what his uncle did, _his job never did much for me anyways. Always Dudley or Petunia, never the boy._

_Finally, _sighing in relief, he was done. The garden had been weeded and several flowers re-planted. _Now to occupy myself._ He glanced around for a comfortable spot. They had allowed him to use the bathroom before heading outside. During that time Harry had snuck out his cloak and wrapped items, thanking the over-sized clothing from Dudley. He wasn't about to let his _family_ know about his inheritance or accounts.

Settling against the fence across from the garden, he carefully unwrapped his cloak from about his waist. _Thank you, Hermione. _With his journal was a small box, magically enlarged inside. Hermione had spelled a couple things for him. He wouldn't run out of ink, break his quill, nor would any candle melt into nothing. She even found a spell to brighten a candle flame but not blindingly glare in the dark. Satisfied with his arrangement, he began to unravel more thoughts.

_//July 26th 6:27 p.m._

_First Year---Hogwarts, friendship, and the Sorcerer's Stone September 1, 1991-June 1992 11 yrs. old_

_I never knew much outside my ten years with the Dursleys but neither did I believe in magic, not wanting to be punished further. I kept my dreams and nightmares to myself, even my thoughts. But it was real. I had learned the truth my eleventh birthday. I was an untrained wizard! The _freaky _things were bouts of accidental magic based on emotions and wishes._

_And that same magic is withheld from the Muggle world. A secret! Don't they know that secrets have a nasty habit of coming out? Then again, they might. Voldemort seems bent on destroying Muggles and not caring who sees what or how or when. _

_Muggles know all about secrets. We've learned the hard way. The Dursleys sure did. History has a nasty habit of repeating itself. After all, many don't wish to admit knowledge that they created the monster. Many don't wish for that burden, pushing it upon the shoulders of another. Just take any history textbook or sit in a class._

_I was that shoulder to be burdened. Famous Harry Potter. Someone once looked at me and sneered. _"Harry Potter. Our new-- _celebrity_." (1) _Few were unwilling to see me as the celebrity others believed. _

_Professor Severus Snape. Potions Master and Professor at Hogwarts. The man who seemed to hate my very being the second I stepped foot on school grounds. He was also the Head of Slytherin House. Slytherins refused to see me as a celebrity. They all saw me as a regular child. Rule-breaker. Troublemaker. Hero-complex._

_Potions. Similar to Chemistry. Wonder if both could be applied as one and the same? Each need careful steps to mix ingredients...to create new experiments. Patience and time, too. Something I really didn't understand. Didn't understand this either: Snape kept me grounded, why? Why keep the one person you disliked grounded? Watch over him?_

_King's Cross Station. My way to the platform for school. Platform Nine and Three Quarters. Sem Sempter September 1st. Eleven o' clock. Hogwarts Express._

_Vernon laughed when he learned all this. He eagerly took me to the train station, helped me drop my stuff off, and left me. A station guard even thought I was funny, making jokes. And I, I was hurt...confused. Was it an elaborate joke? I did visit Diagon Alley, a place to shop for my school supplies. That wasn't a joke. But was the platform one? How exactly is a Muggle-raised child suppose to find the platform? How does the Muggleborn find it? Would a wizard or witch be waiting in the shadows? Was there a magical station guard? Was there a letter of explanation? A map?_

_My saviors. The Weasleys. Molly Weasley, the Matriarch, helped me through the portal...the doorway. I was stunned watching her children run right at the pillar...one between Platforms 9 and 10. Still thought that it to be a joke even as I ran for the platform. How is it that the Muggles don't see us running for the doorway? How is it that they don't realize we suddenly vanish? Can a Muggle have access or is it just for those with magic? What keeps them from asking or suspecting? What keeps them from searching on their own? Does the Magical world even know how hard it is to keep it a secret? I wouldn't have gotten on the platform if I hadn't heard Molly arguing about Muggles. Wouldn't the slip of the tongue alert our existence? What about magical homes or businesses? Are they well hidden or what?_

_A scarlet steam engine. Impressive. The only way, apparently for students, get to Hogwarts. Enough compartments for all seven years to ride comfortably. I found myself nervous and scared. I was going to a place I had never heard of until just recently. Never even knew about except my name was down since I was born. Is that how and why I got my letter? Is that how the others got their letter? Is that how Muggleborns are found? Or is it just a coincidence?_

_I'm guessing Muggleborns felt the same way as I did. Meeting a strange new world. I wonder. I had known no one. The only ones who did know had been murdered or kept it a secret for ten years. Not one soul._

_Do Muggleborns know? Do they read ahead about it? I know Hermione did. Said so as we entered the Great Hall. Maybe they had a feel fellow friend going to Hogwarts. Maybe they knew someone from another magical school. Maybe a Half-blood had a Muggleborn cousin, niece, nephew, or sibling. Even a Pureblood could possibly have a disowned, removed, relative. Squibs might have someone in the Muggle world. Couldn't they have known? Or did the Muggleborn learn on their eleventh birthday in the same way I did? A secret suddenly revealing itself?_

_Everyone here were absolute strangers yet knew my name! They thought they knew me already! Knew my interests...my fame...my life! They knew nothing. It's rubbish what they believe without truly knowing me. My name was in their history books...books on various events! Wonder if they even have the correct information or is it all about how Voldemort came after me on Halloween night?_

_Scabbers. A pet rat belonging to Ron. Use to belong to Percy. Science class once mentioned the life spans of various creatures. And a common rat could live up to five years but that's pushing it. Usually only about three years. I made the connection but didn't act. Oh, how I regretted that. I've seen strange things in this new world and thought it was possible that rat lived on magic._

_But all doubts had washed away at my first glance of Hogwarts. Lit up at night as we floated across the lake upon magically driven boats._

_Professor Minerva McGonagall. Deputy Headmistress. Transfiguration Professor. Head of Gryffindor House. A no-nonsense woman. Strict and fair._

_Most schools group by age, all in one year. Rarely do they split that one year among classes and homerooms. But this...Four Houses with seven years. Each year dedicated to age...First Years, 11 yrs...Second Years, 12 yrs...Third Years, 13 yrs...Fourth Years, 14 yrs...Fifth Years, 15 yrs...Sixth Years, 16 yrs...Seventh Years, 17 yrs. But not all are the same age. Like high school, some graduate at age seventeen and others at age eighteen. Unless they are exceptionally gifted, then they can graduate at a very young age. But Hogwarts doesn't believe in exceptional or advancing in grades. If so, Hermione and a select few wouldn't be held back, forced to compete with their own age and grade, forced to hold back what they know._

_Salazar Slytherin...Helga Hufflepuff...Godric Gryffindor...Rowena Ravenclaw. Four Houses with a single trait separating them from others. Cunning...Loyalty...Courage...Knowledge._

_Slytherin House. Hated...Dark...Mistreated...Dishonorable. Everyone blames them for their troubles. Dark witches and wizards turning their backs on the society that raised them, taught them. Loyal only to Dark Lords. A burden on society. In the Muggle world they would be children like me. Down on their luck. Abused: physical, emotional, verbal, sexual, neglect, starvation. Orphaned or ignored. We struggle to survive. Fight for our identity. Fight for a place to belong, especially in society._

"Never judge a book by its cover." (unknown)

_Dursleys fit. Perfect to the neighborhood, graciously raising an orphan nephew. Neglectful to me, raising me as if they had no other choice._

_Desperate for friendship, for companionship. I defended Hagrid against a snobbish blonde boy. Met Ron and defended him against the same blonde. Draco Malfoy. I turned him down, refused his hand because Ron was nice to me, because he made fun of Ron. Stupid, yes, but I was desperate. I refused to pay attention to that quote most Muggles would use._

_The Sorting Hat. A weird artifact used to sort new students into their Houses. _"You could be great, you know, it's all in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that" (2) _ I rejected Slytherin, chose Gryffindor because Ron wanted to go there. Didn't want Slytherin. Maybe I should have. Should I have? Would my parents still love me if I chose Slytherin? Would the world turn against me if I did? Would I have no friends? Would I lose what friends I did make?_

_Greatness. How is it that someone takes one look at me, peeks in my head, and tels me I'll be great? How is a wand going to make me just as great? Ollivander of wand making said that. _"I think we must expect great things from you, Mr. Potter...After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things--terrible, yes, but great." (3)

_How does a wand say I will do great things? How could they say that Voldemort did great things with a wand: thirteen-and-a-half inches, yew, phoenix feather? How can I do great things with my wand: eleven inches, holly, phoenix feather? I haven't begun training. So what, we share the same core from the same phoenix. That says nothing. Only that they are brother wands, probably won't be able to do much against each other._

_But I'm not great. All my adventures, I had help. I had friends. They solved my riddles, my puzzles, my strategies. I couldn't survive without them. It wasn't pure luck. It was friendship._

_Quirrell. Strange and peculiar. First time we met, the Leaky Cauldron. He was the first person refusing to touch me...in the magical world. Everyone wanted to touch the savior, to shake his hand. But this man...this professor was terrified to touch me. I wasn't sure what to make of him. But I knew something was different, wrong. Teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. My head hurt, particularly in my scar whenever I was in his presence. Hearing voices whispering, calling to me._

_I wasn't alone in my suspicion. Snape wasn't sure about him either. My first night here, the Welcoming Feast. I had grabbed my forehead, right over my scar as I stared at Quirrell and Snape. The look in Snape's eye told me I was possibly on the right track. There was something wrong about Quirrell but Snape seemed to know what my scar was about._

_Things soon became stranger on Halloween night._

_He came running, screaming, _"Troll--in the dungeons." (4) _ Screams of terror roused the panic of fleeing. I, I was confused. Yes, terrified. I knew about trolls in classes and Muggle fairy tales. Dangerous and deadly creatures. But here's what I want to know. All the Professors were already in the Great Hall. Why wasn't Quirrell? Where was he? Hiding in his office, his classroom, his bedroom? What was more important than eating dinner and celebrating Halloween? Even Snape was in the Great Hall, pushing his duties off until a little later._

_More began to bounce about. Why was Quirrell in the dungeons? What was he doing there while the Potions Master was in the Great Hall? Obviously not going for Potions. I know for a fact that Snape keeps his stores well warded, only his magical signature opens it. I know that because of a detention I served. I couldn't open the store-room to replace some ingredients that had been left out, not even a passing Prefect could open it. I had to find the Headmaster who in turn had to find Snape._

_Still, wasn't the Defense class on the upper levels, even his office? The dungeons belong to Snape and Slytherin House. Wouldn't Snape have some type of wards or system to allow him the knowledge of what's going happening in his domain? I would think so. Snape's very...obsessive with his House...almost protective. So, if a troll had entered, Snape would be the first to know, right?_

_Or was it a trick created by Quirrell? _

_Here was the other thing that confused me. He was the Defense Professor, right? Of course he would have the degree and experience for that position. So, why couldn't he defend? Why did he run? Were we learning the wrong things? Was he not capable? If not, it would get us hurt, even killed! Or was there something missing? Like that trick idea I was wondering?_

_Ron and I had gone for Hermione, saving her from the troll in the girl's bathroom. That's a long way from the dungeons where the Professors were. How did they come to the bathroom? Were they doing a routine check of the castle? Did they know three students weren't in their Common Room? And where did the bleeding on Snape's leg come from? I thought he was suspicious of Quirrell?_

_Fluffy. That was the answer and key. A three headed dog. I thought Cerberus belonged to the Greek myth about Hades and Tartarus, the Guardian of Hell. Huge and scary, three mouths of slobbering tongues and sharp teeth. A gift from Hagrid to Dumbledore. A monstrous animal guarding something. According to Hermione, it was a trap door._

_Voldemort was still alive. A spirit living on unicorn blood. Inhabiting the body of another. Scrounging the school for a source of immortality. The Sorcerer's Stone. A creation, an elixir of life. Discovered and created by Nicholas Flamel. The reason for Hagrid's gift. Hidden beneath the school among enchantments and obstacles. And the only reason he knew, Hagrid had a habit of letting things slip. How easy it was to learn of Fluffy, Nicholas Flamel, how to tame a beast._

_Someone was going for that stone. I suspected Quirrell but Snape was beginning to act weird himself. It was Snape Ron and Hermione suspected. But our suspicions were founded._

_Seeker. I hadn't realized the magical world would have it's own sports. I couldn't believe that they were true blue cauldron brewing, broom flying and spell casting people. Ironic. Muggle fairy tales had stated as much. Why not just come out? Then again, I can understand. Salem Witch Trials. And that would explain it all to any and every magical being._

_Quidditch was quite unique and weird. A sport played on brooms. Three type of balls. Quaffle, a misshapen object used by Chasers to score goals. Reminds me of soccer. A team chasing a ball across the field to kick it into a goal on the other end. Instead of one goal there are three in Quidditch and only six Chasers (three per team). Ten points per score, if made, not blocked._

_Bludger. A ball enclosing some type of creature, one with a bad temper...vicious. Beaters use a short club to bat them around at the opposing team. Baseball. Tennis. Golf. All using some type of club (different shapes, sizes, and names) to whack around a varied sized ball. Hurts like hell when hit by one. Four Beaters (two per team)._

_Snitch. A tiny golden ball with wings. Extremely fast and agile. Able to fly at top speeds, loves confusing its chasers by twisting around various objects and suddenly changing directions or performing daring drops and turns. Seekers are the chasers of the Snitch. Chasing down a fast ball, sounds like a Pitcher tossing a baseball to the Catcher. Basketball might be easier. Two teams chasing around a ball, hoping to be the one to steal and catch it before the other scores. Two Seekers (one per team). One hundred fifty points. Wins the game if caught unless the Chasers are able score higher without needing to catch the Snitch._

_Keepers are the only ones not really playing. All they do is block, watch the goals. Any game needed a blocker or goalie to perform the same action. Hockey. Soccer. They have the easiest yet toughest job. Sitting in one place for a long time, trying to keep the other team from scoring._

_School Rule: First Years cannot play Quidditch. Somehow I erased that rule, obliterated it actually. And I have Malfoy to thank for that. Never rode a broom that I can remember but people say I'm a natural. I felt free, released from reality. Remembrall, Neville's gift from home. He lost it during our first flying lesson. Fell from his broom and broke his wrist. Malfoy tossed it as hard and far as he could. I chased it down, barely stopping before I hit a window, catching it. _

_James Potter was a Quidditch player in his school years. Made me feel closer to him. Flying high and fast. Freedom and joy. Something that would make him proud because I made the team as a First Year. I didn't want to let him down. Every game I've played and won, dedicated to my father. Ones I lost, if rarely, I still dedicated. The sky and wind made me feel as if he was there, helping, cheering. Never wanted to lose that._

_I have yet to find something in common with Mum. I want to feel just as close as I do Dad._

_I dreamed of holidays with people who cared. Presents left under the tree for me. Imagine my surprise, my joy to receive a gift. Every year with the Dursleys I wanted to cry. They barely gave me anything. A piece of lint. Pair of old socks. Unusual and undesirable. At night, I would cry. Missing the love and joy I saw the Dursleys shower upon Dudley. I wanted that. I desired that. I needed that._

_More and more I learn of James Potter. The invisibility cloak. It was once his and now mine. A gift for Christmas along with a sweater from Molly, created just for me. Not sure why but it's what Ron stated. And that cloak was useful, not just for wandering the halls or scrounging the kitchen._

_First dilemma. Someone had called Dumbledore from Hogwarts. The so-called Ministry. He always seemed to know things as they happened or before they happen. If that is true, why couldn't he see that someone wanted him out of the way? Is it just the castle he knows? Is there something alerting him to those things? Do the portraits run and snitch about every students' whereabouts, their actions? Is he all seeing, all knowing? Or is he just guessing, hoping to be right?_

_Second dilemma. Neville Longbottom. Okay, this was a little tricky. Neville's a shy boy, desiring friendship as much as I had. He's sweet and friendly. Quiet, fearful. He seemed to wilt in most classes until Herbology, plants seemed to bring him from his shell. Bringing him back to reality before he closed his door, hoping to hide, make himself smaller to his enemies. He feared our losing points. For some reason we, the Golden Trio, constantly lost points in one fashion or another. A Petrifying Spell was all it took to keep him from stopping us. Sorry, Neville, but it was the quickest and painless way to keep you safe. We were on a dangerous mission._

_Third dilemma. Fluffy. Someone had beaten us to the trap door, forcing the dog to sleep with an enchanted harp. We almost lost. I wanted Ron and Hermione to locate Dumbledore. We needed him. He was powerful enough to stop Voldemort. I wasn't kidding myself. And believed McGonagall, sheer dumb luck, it was all I had. I had no choice but to take them along. Neither would reach the door before Fluffy got a hold of them._

_Fourth dilemma. Devil's Snare. Who in the world would want this plant? Is there something about it useful in Potions, Herbology? Does it make the perfect watch dog? More struggles made, the tighter it grips. Deadly to its foes. But if one sits still, it'll let you free. Poor Ron. He refused. Hermione was his savior this time. A sunlight spell freed him from his vine encased prison._

_Fifth dilemma. Flying keys. Who in the world enchanted keys to fly?! Those things hurt! Come on, people! You can't expect someone to fly around on a broom, dodging keys, and pray not to be hit. That's like hoping the Beaters wouldn't miss on your team or the other team would stick with the Chasers. Those keys hurt almost as much as the bludgers. I suffered trying to catch a key with a broken wing to unlock the only door to our next obstacle. Bruised already before we even got to the stone._

_Bruises became worse on the sixth dilemma. An enchanted chess board. Okay, seriously, the Professors really wanted the intruder to hurt. I definitely did. I know Ron and Hermione soon felt it when we had to play. But thankfully we had Ron. He was always playing chess, winning too, usually against me. I wasn't much of an opponent. He sacrificed himself for a check, for me to make a checkmate. Oh, how Hermione and I wanted to run to him._

_Did Quirrell play through all the obstacles? Or did he know the spells and enchantments holding them? Did he take the easy way out? Coward. He cursed my broom during Quidditch, hoping I would fall to my death or be injured fatally, permanently. Snape was my savior. Still haven't figured out why yet. Why save the boy you dislike? Or is it a Professor's duty to protect all their students, even of other Houses?_

_Mirror of Erised. Shows one's heart's desire, unless the person is truly happy. My family, my parents. _"Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi." (5) _The promise to have them again tempted me. Oh, how I wanted. But I can't. I may have dreamed but living with the Dursleys taught me strength. I fought. I struggled. All my life was a battle, a war of wits and strength. I had one desire above all else, to prevail. I was going to survive no matter what the Dursleys did._

_Even now I would prevail._

_But I will admit this. In that split second of decision, I wavered. Oh, to have my parents. To have the life I desired. No more Dursleys. No more starvations. No more neglect. No more second hand clothing. No more heavy chores. I would be loved. I would be happy. I could almost see it, taste it, hear it, feel it. I wanted it!_

_I could see my parents coming to me with open arms. Handing over the stone to Voldemort to seal our deal. Having James and Lily alive once more. To hear their voices and to feel their touch. We would be happy again. Living in our new house. Never having to fear anything again. Death leaving us until we were of old age, ready for our next adventure. Playing Quidditch with my dad. Cooking with mum. Christmas wrapped in a thick quilt, surrounding a roaring fire as we pass out gifts. Birthdays planned and elaborate. Laughter, tears, smiles fill the house. Possible sisters and/or brothers. Siblings. Someone to help train, protect, raise, play with, love. A dream come true._

_And then reality crashed. My dream came true, yes. My desire. But just behind the reflections of my parents was the truth. Houses and buildings roaring with burning flames, turning to ash within the wind. Streams drying up, polluted with death. Muggles crying and trying to fight back against something they couldn't understand. The magical world in an uproar, terrified. Darkness overlaying what little light could be produced. Muggleborns and Half-bloods scream with pain. Tortured to the Purebloods' delight. Voldemort high on power. Blood slicking the ground with death. Tears, frowns, sobs fill the air. Families torn apart. Magical creatures in hiding. Refugees desperate for a new home. Friends and family turning on each other. A nightmare come true._

_No! I couldn't do that. The mere thought of Hermione suffering beneath Voldemort's hands, given over to Death Eaters to torture, rape, murder. No. I refused to see her soul suffer, destroyed, crushed. She didn't deserve that. No Muggleborn did. Innocence deserved to be innocent, clean and pure. Never defiled by the most vile creature upon Earth. _

_I had made up my mind. I wasn't going to give in. I wasn't going to lose. I wasn't going to let him win. I wasn't going to betray my parents' sacrifice for my selfish needs._

_I struggled to keep the stone, even as Quirrell crumbled to dust beneath my touch. He feared my touch because it burned! He turned to ash and dust, blowing away in an invisible wind. Why? I have his life and blood upon my hands, though it's really dust. All that was left, a shadow, a spirit. Voldemort fled when his host vanished in the wind. I collapsed, knowing the stone was safe, wondering how I almost gave in to his promise of regaining my parents. My family. My mother's love (protective barrier she left me upon her death) was my salvation that time.//_

**"Potter!"** Harry winced at his uncle's cry. He bet Vernon thought he was being quiet or whispering when dealing with his nephew. Soon he would be allowed entrance. Knowing Vernon would hurry to the back door, Harry gathered his things. He waited for Vernon to allow him entrance. Then rushed to his room, knowing the locks would soon turn.

Once alone, he re-lit his candle for a last few words. _//Leaving Feast. The House elves, the magical version of servants or slaves, depending on who you ask, would out-do themselves. I didn't want to leave, knowing who and where I would return to. The House Cup. A reward to the winning House with the most points. Not quite sure why. What exactly does it imply? Which House is the best or what? What kind of reward is it suppose to symbolize?_

_Slytherin was the winner. Rightfully the owners of the Cup. Leave it to Dumbledore to ruin it for them. The way I saw it, they deserved it. Sure, I wanted it but we caused too many lost points to truly own it. They needed something to prove their worth, not to push them further away._

_Fifty points for cool intellect in face of danger. Hermione deserved that. Yes, she did. If it wasn't for her, Ron would be in terrible danger with the Devil's Snare._

_Fifty points for the best played game of chess. What?! So, Ron made a good game. He does that every day against a human opponent. Big deal. That wasn't worth fifty points. Now if it was for sacrificing himself, that was different but that particular item was left out._

_Sixty points for love and courage. Okay, this one made absolutely no sense. Who cares? Yes, we all love. Yes, we all have courage. But that has nothing for points. I didn't deserve it but loved knowing we were close to wining. I deserved points really for sacrificing myself to protect the school against Voldemort._

_Ten points for standing against one's friends. Now Neville truly deserved more than ten points. But the look on his face was worth it. Stunned and speechless. He truly needed to shine. I know it's hard to stand against your enemies but to stand against the ones you love, the ones you have faith and belief in is even harder._

_Inside I raged for the unfairness dealt to the Slytherins. Outside, I cheered with my classmates. We won the highest honor possible. But life is never fair. Cold and cruel. Much like nature. Cold and hot. One time happy to serve, the other time happy to destroy. Magic reminds me much of nature. Wonder if that's where magic resides. Does it? Is nature the means of evolving human nature?_

_For now, I am lighter in burden. Thank you for your love and protection, Mum, Dad. One day I hope to repay that.// _Harry forced back his tears until he was ready for bed. _I miss you. I need you. Help me._ His silent pleas were all he remembered as the night claimed him, dropping him deep into slumber.

Footnote: Quotes from J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone: Quote 1: Page 136...Quote 2: Page 121...Quote 3: Page 85...Quote 4: Page 172...Quote 5: Page 207


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

_//July 27th 2:11 p.m._

_Second Year---Bloodlines, Parseltongue, and the Chamber of Secrets September 1, 1992- June 1993 12 yrs. old_

_My Second Year at Hogwarts. Ironic that the year before gave me a clue as to what would happen in this year. A sneaky peek in to the future without having to be a Seer. Dudley had wanted to go to the zoo for his birthday. By some miracle, at least in my mind but a tragedy in theirs, I couldn't go to a sitter's. No one was able to watch me that day. Therefore, I was taken along for the ride. What a ride it was. _

_The Reptile House. Snakes, lizards, iguanas. You name it. But it was a large snake that caught our attention. A boa constrictor if I'm not mistaken. From Brazil, though bred in captivity. It talked to me! It understood every word I said to it! And when the glass to its cage vanished, it even thanked me as it slithered away! I was shocked! _

_It wouldn't be until this year that I learned speaking to snakes was rare. Unique. Seen as Dark. Why is it that what one uses for evil everyone believes is evil? Wiccans. Now there's a subject of Muggles. Wiccans were our witches. They loved nature, worked with nature. They were one with nature. But those turning to darkness were witches. They were still Wiccans but with powers to hurt others. They were high on power believing they could do anything without fault. But Muggles believed in both, seeing it as a religion or gift of others.//_

**"Potter!"** Harry sighed as he looked up from his journal. He thought it was a free afternoon. Vernon was taking Dudley and Petunia out for lunch, leaving Harry behind. Petunia had allowed him to create an elaborate lunch to hold him over until dinner. He still had the tray lying upon his bed with half his lunch still waiting to be eaten.

Sighing, he rose from his seat, heading for the downstairs. He could only guess why Vernon was calling him, _chores, chores, and more chores._ "Sir?"

Vernon's squinty eyes glared at him. "Petunia has a list of chores that _will_ be done before we return home."

"Yes, Sir." A long list was dangling from his aunt's fingers as her left hand smoothed down her precious _Dudder's_ hair.

"Here." She sneered at him. Despite all that had happened through the years, she refused to allow Vernon's his way. She allowed Harry to remain in his cousin's second bedroom, allowing him to cook his own meals as well as theirs, and keeping the bars off his bedroom window. He could come and go as he pleased, if he wished.

Vernon grumbled as Harry accepted the list, "And stay out of sight!" His voice dropped lower, "Still don't see why Mrs. Figg couldn't take him."

Petunia sighed heavily, a sign that they had been having this conversation several times that day. "She's having company for tea. Friends that have finally made time in their busy schedule to visit her. But she did agree to keep an eye out for the house and Harry."

Vernon grunted, "Fine." He led his family out the front door, turning back at the last moment, "No funny business, boy."

"Yes, Sir." Emerald eyes watched as the door closed. "Time to get started." _It's going to be a long day._ He glanced over the chores, ready to tackle them. And as he busied himself, Hedwig fluttered to a stop onto the desk, fresh from soaring the morning sky. She tucked her head beneath a wing, slipping in to sleep. Almost two hours later, Harry was just finishing the bathroom. As he cleaned and aired the guest room, his thoughts flashed to the list, a_t least I know why I have two hours worth of chores._ Emerald eyes glanced over the crumbled, filthy list, "Start dinner!"

His body protested from a kneeling position to standing. He felt dirty, caked with dust, but his shower would have to wait. He only had time to wash his hands and run a wet rag over his face. Then hurried to the kitchen to prepare a full course meal. He chomped on the carrot sticks from his lunch, banging around the pans and pots. "Potter!"

"Kitchen, Sir." He peered around the door to find his uncle waddling his way.

"Give me the list." Vernon's nose crinkled at the sight of the balled, dirty list. He read over the grimy crossed out chores, "Dinner will be done on time, boy."

"Yes, Sir."

Satisfied by his nephew's cowed behavior, Vernon nodded. "Bring out some drinks and snacks. Marge has arrived."

Harry sighed, eyeing the bubbling pots. They could hold for a few moments, allowing him the chance to rush upstairs for a clean shirt. His pants were black so they hid the dirt from the chores. Returning to the kitchen, he stirred the pots before carefully pulling out Petunia's silver serving trays. She was fanatical on how they were treated, especially during cleaning. He's caught her counting them out, as if he would steal them. For tonight, he only needed two. On one he arranged a colorful selection of fruit slices, cubed cheeses, and vegetables. They surrounded two small bowls of sweet cream and French dip. As an afterthought he added toothpicks, napkins, and small paper plates.

With precise and careful movements, he carried the one tray in to the living room, placing it upon the coffee table. He had cleared it off earlier. "Ah, something to hold us over for a moment. Would you like a drink, Marge?"

Harry refused to look over at the large woman, Vernon's sister. "Yes, Vernon. Thank you."

"The good stuff, boy." Vernon turned back to his sister, "I just received a case of sparkling cider. Perfectly aged and will go good with the appetizers."

Harry nodded, willing to keep playing the servant role. _Yep, a long day. At least it's almost over. Only a few more days._ With the same care as before, he placed four flutes upon the second tray with a corkscrew and bottle of sparkling cider, as well as a small bucket of ice. _Please let dinner be done early._ He served his relatives before finishing dinner. It would be some time before he could rest.

By ten that night, Harry was free, even refreshed by a quick shower. Now waiting for Vernon to lock him in for the night. A silent vow they all made. He willingly allowed himself to be locked inside and they would allow him to do what he will as long as chores were done. Knowing he was done for the rest of the night, Harry slipped before his desk, waking Hedwig.

"Hey girl. A letter?" It was a short letter from Headquarters. He answered the questions, sending the reply with Hedwig. Once she vanished from sight, he turned back to his journal. _//I wonder if every summer is a premonition of what could happen during school. The year before gave me an idea of what would happen this year but it was a visit I had received that gave me chills._

"Dobby the house-elf." (1) _A strange creature, house-elves. Huge ears, wide eyes, tiny, and weird clothing (pillow cases, towels, scraps). Servants to Pureblood families. Not all treated well. Creatures of servitude and loyalty to their family until given clothes. Clothes meant freedom. He came to warn me of bad things at Hogwarts. If Dobby was loyal to his family why come warn me? Did this family know their house-elf was disloyal? A renegade? Did they know he was warning Harry Potter of trouble? Or did they set Dobby to a task? Did they worry for me?_

_My letters in his grasp. But me forgetting my friends or they forgetting me didn't work. I was returning to Hogwarts. So, what does he do? He gets me in trouble with the Ministry. Vernon was having an important dinner party. And Dobby dropped Petunia's cake upon the client's wife's head. I got a letter blaming me for underage magic when it was Dobby._

_And to my rescue, Ron Weasley and his twin brothers. They stole their father's enchanted car to rescue me. I hadn't answered any letters (Dobby took them). They worried for me! Someone actually worried about me, cared enough to hunt me down. They cared enough to tear down the bars of my window, collect my things, and take me to their home. Molly never blamed me for their grand escape, sneaking out to save me. If I wasn't so scared her fury would be turned on me, I would have been laughing. _

_Ron and his twin brothers were frozen on the spot. They were trying to find excuses, explanations. And in between bouts of her yelling, she was all smiles and soft tones to me. Kind and cheerful one moment then fury and yelling the second. Their home was awesome! Lived in...Petunia would call it cluttered and tiny. To me it was a testament of a loving family, one who believed in warmth and love...not wealth and expensive doodads._

_Arthur Weasley. He loved Muggle lively-hood. His department dealt with the misuse of Muggle artifacts...objects charmed with magic and ending up in the Muggle World. But once he finally met me at their breakfast table it was question after question. The "How?" and the "Why?" of anything that struck his fancy that hadn't been answered by anyone else._

_And what interested me, my book list and letter. Came with the Weasleys' owl, Errol. Who exactly creates them? Is it an enchanted quill? A copy spell? Do they use the same books every year for the students as they advance? How exactly does an owl know where their owner or the one who sent them are? Then again, how does anyone know where every possible magical child lives, let alone visit elsewhere, especially their bedroom?_

_That kind of information would have the Muggle world in a panic. To them, it's considered stalking. A crime punishable by law. Paranoia is popular among the Muggles, sometimes too popular. Which makes me wonder again. Who explains it to the Muggleborns? Have any parent of a Muggleborn gone to the police? Has anyone tried and been laughed at? Have they tossed out the letter as a practical joke? Have they continuously received more letters? Or did they stop arriving?_

_I don't like Floo powder. Clumsy and filthy. Not only that, I could end up in the wrong fireplace. Then again, done that already. I pronounced the name wrong when the Weasleys taught me to Floo. Didn't go to Diagon Alley. Ended up in Knockturn Alley, Borgin and Burkes. Seemed ever the popular place for Dark Wizards and Witches, especially selling or trading or buying Dark items._

_The first place I caught a glimpse of Lucius Malfoy, Draco Malfoy's father. There was something about him. He didn't try. He was confident with every fiber. He knew who and what he was. _"The name Malfoy still commands a certain respect..." (2)

_I wanted that. I wanted to be like him but I'm not. I'm just me with all the overwhelming baggage and outwards I'm what _they_ want._

_Malfoy must want the same. He tries to emulate his father in every possible way. The Heir of the Malfoy line. Everything he could want usually gets but Lucius has no problem showing who is truly Lord Malfoy. As I mentioned before, Lucius is sure of himself. He knows what he is, proud, but he isn't stupid either. He knew people respected him, even feared him. But also knew there's a first time for every thing. He needed to slowly rid himself of suspicion. The Malfoy name suffers if he couldn't keep clean but it doesn't work without the bribes, threats, and sneaky escapes. But some refused to be taken in such a way, trying what they could to discredit his name...Arthur for example._

_Hagrid found me stumbling about, rescuing me. But something was off. He seemed hesitant, almost scared to tell me why he had been in Knockturn Alley. I told him I was lost. He wanted Flesh-Eating Slug Repellent. And to explain that the Alley was infamous for shady dealers and even shadier buyers. I believe it to be a place where no one asks questions or give answers. They simply blend in the shadows, aiding each other for various reasons._

_He led the way to Hermione, who led the way to the Weasleys. My first look at the so-called famous Gilderoy Lockhart. Every female in his vicinity sighed with pleasure, eyes wide with puppy love._

_Phony! There was something completely fake about the man. Blonde and blue eyed. Typical empty-headed blonde stealing some _thing _from others. I didn't like him. Despised him when he forced me into a photo shot. Oh yes. The Great Gilderoy Lockhart with The-Boy-Who-Lived! What infamy! What celebrity! Hah! What a phony! Please. He wanted what all desired. My name to endorse their name and dream. _

_Even got my entire school books free, plus his autobiography. Yeah, okay, like I'd want any of them. But I had no choice. Oh, wait. I did. I gave them to Ginny and bought my own. Then came Lucius Malfoy, once more in my sight. My first taste of the true Malfoy/Weasley Feud. Neither Patriarch willing to stand down._

_Amazing. Arthur could be as childish as his sons, who were cheering him on during his little roll-in-the-dirt stunt. I knew who really controlled that family. Arthur may be the Patriarch and Molly the Matriarch but Molly's fury caused her to be the true Head of the Weasley Family. _

_But even after being physically assaulted, Lucius still seemed untouched and superior. Arthur simply looked guilty. Oh, how I wish I could be Lucius. To feel superior no matter what life threw my way._

_If I had taken a moment, I would have remembered. Ron and I had trouble getting through the barrier to the platform. I have an owl, a message carrying avian. But no, I panicked with Ron at my side. Together we plotted to take the enchanted Ford Anglia. How we flew to Hogwarts, I'll never understand. Somehow, Ron managed to get us there in one piece. Banged up because we had an unscheduled meeting with the Whomping Willow but in one piece._

_We deserved the punishment Snape desired to give us, especially if I had given in to the Sorting Hat, becoming a Slytherin. How he wanted the suspension...the expulsion. We needed that. We needed our punishment. We allowed the Muggles to see an enchanted car. We harmed a Whomping Willow, though it did just as much damage to us. We took matters into our own hands instead of waiting, waiting for someone to come for us._

_But no, can't do that to Famous Harry Potter. Can't send him away. Oh, no! No wonder Snape tries to keep me grounded. No wonder others think I'm King High-and-Mighty. No wonder they think I'm Dumbledore's Golden Boy. Our punishment, detention and a letter to our families. A letter. The Dursleys are probably thinking the punishment wasn't enough or thrilled that I was being punished. That I'm freaky but that doesn't stop me from suffering._

_Loss of points. Scrubbing cauldrons. Polishing the trophies. Those I could handle. Loss of my broom. Discouraging words of Snape. Stern lectures from McGonagall. Those I dared hope. But no, I must suffer the phony. The pretty boy. Oh, how the witches swooned. Disgusted me. A bubble-headed dreamer with stolen memories._

_The Howler. Such ingenious work of art. A parchment inside a red envelope. Magic allows one to send their voice to _howl_ at the addressee. Ron had to suffer his mother's fury before the entire school. Never thought he could grow so pale until Molly Weasley rang through the silence. I wonder again of my relatives. How exactly did the Dursleys react? They never told me. Did they cheer for my punishment? Didn't discover this answer. Had they feared my expulsion? I bet that wiped off any smirk and glitter to their eyes. Did their anger grow at that choice? Did I have to fear for myself? Would I return to a barred and locked bedroom or a cramped and dark cupboard? I was glad about one thing. They refused to keep in touch with me. But, oh, how I wished to send them a Howler! To learn that magic! Treat them as they do me!_

_Then again, I refuse to be at their level. I am better than that. But I can't be myself anymore. I can only be what they want me to be. What the Magical World wishes me to be._

_My First Year taught me to follow my instincts. Which is why I despised Lockhart. We deserved someone who truly suffered what his so-called adventures bragged. Here we sat, in Defense, answering a stupid quiz. All about him. Who really cares what his favorite color is?! How is that useful to defend against a rampaging vampire or a tricky pixie? Neither did his greatest ambition help us against freshly caught Cornish pixies he released. Like the coward I knew he was, he ran._

_Coward! He truly was a fake. He ran instead of helping! He was the Professor! He was supposed to protect us! We were twelve! We aren't matched for anything yet!_

_How right I was._

_Signing autographed pictures for the pretty boy. The adventure began. Voices. Something hungered to be free, to taste blood, to kill. I hurried to find a water covered floor and a petrified Mrs. Norris. But what began to scare us was the bloody writing. _"The Chamber of Secrets Has Been Opened...Enemies of the Heir...Beware" (3)

_Muggleborns. Mudbloods. Dirty blood. A shameful secret the Purebloods wished to eradicate from their world, to regain what they wished was their world. _

_Hermione cried, anger flaring in her eyes, swimming with tears, face pale as snow. Ron suffered his backfired curse (wand broke in half when he tried to stop his flying car), coughing up slugs. Yes, it was horrible. Disgusting. I dearly wanted to laugh. They Slytherins had done what I desired. What kind of friend does that make me? So many things happen and I had to think most were funny. Others made me want to cry. But the voices remained and I knew I was missing a vital piece. One Lockhart had unknowingly granted me._

_A Dueling Club. He really thought he was good, choosing Snape as his opponent. Instead he ended up on his back with Snape as the winner. Pathetic but funny. Until it came my turn against Malfoy. A conjured snake. An angry conjured snake. I had to stop it since Lockhart's bright idea only made it madder instead of vanquishing it. A Parselmouth. Parseltongue. Now I know why I understood that Boa Constrictor at the zoo._

_A rare ability many saw as evil. But if we look back to the Wiccan. No ability is evil, dark. It is the person that makes it. Voldemort used Parseltongue for the Dark Arts. I was using it in hopes to protect Justin Finch-Fletchley from an early grave. But how the school feared me. Turning their backs. Then the panic as Muggleborns ended up petrified by something._

_Something from the Chamber of Secrets. A room created by one Founder of Hogwarts, Salazar Slytherin. Within resides a monster only a Parselmouth could control. How ironic not long after I learned of the Heir when we (the Golden Trio) tried our hardest to prove Malfoy was the one. All he knew was fifty years before the Chamber had been opened and a Muggleborn had died. _

_A diary. Mysterious in origin and powerful in its own right. Tossed down a toilet in the owner's hope of riddance. _"T. M. Riddle...got an award for special services to the school fifty years ago." (4) _A memory of aged sixteen preserved in a diary. I was shown a monster. Oh, did he think I was stupid? Show me a giant spider, an Acromantula, as the creature that murdered a Muggleborn? It belonged to Hagrid, Aragog did. Fifty years ago. Riddle had found Hagrid hiding the creature, using that to frame the gentle man I now knew as my very first friend in this world. I couldn't believe it. I wouldn't believe it. I refused to believe it._

_The only thing this diary explained...Hagrid's hesitation. He had been expelled for something that wasn't his fault. That creature was wrong. Yes, it could be a monster. It was...a gigantic spider living deep in the shadows of the Dark Forest. The monster Slytherin could control spoke Parseltongue. How could Riddle make me believe a spider spoke the Founder's tongue?_

_I should have taken the diary to Dumbledore. Destroyed it before more pain and damage could be wrought. But I left it in my things, in the Second Year's dorm. I left it behind, knowing it was dangerous. It went back in the hands of its original owner. Ginny Weasley. _

"Her Skeleton Will Lie in the Chamber Forever"(5)

_Oh how I wanted to laugh at Lockhart's expression as Snape told everyone of the man's knowledge of the Chamber. But I wasn't about to let Ginny suffer a rescue by a bumbling idiot who was packing to flee. He was willing to be a voluntary murderer. He would have let her die, soul slowly easing from this world into the memory of a diary. Did he honestly think he'd get far? A girl's life was in danger, fatal danger. She deserved a rescue of a hero, not a death of an idiot. Especially not a burial of secrets, locked away from the world as her family mourns._

_We (Ron and I...Hermione had been one of the few Muggleborns petrified by Slytherin's creation beneath the school) forced Lockhart to aide us in a daring and deadly rescue. Thinking back on Ron's slug fest, I thank the chance his wand had broken. One Obliviate spell and we had a rock slide. I almost (once again) lost control of my laugh reflex. Lockhart forgot every little detail of his life. The same effects he forced those he stole his adventures and books from. A suitable punishment for his crimes._

_Somehow Riddle knew of his counterpart's demise. Exactly how? How did he know that I was the cause of his elder's spirit removal from physical body? How did he know of that Halloween night? Who told him? Why did they tell him? What was the goal to aide his younger self to power? Did he not realize that a younger Riddle may not want anything to do with his elder? A Half-blood with Pureblood ideals._

_He claimed to be great. I claimed Dumbledore. I was yet to the level of Voldemort. I could not be great. I was but a child playing with the adults in hopes of saving the world._

_King of all serpents, the Basilisk. Hermione had gotten that clue for us. Using the pipes to move about, searching for flesh and blood. An enormous snake with deadly yellow eyes. Riddle's weapon. Mine...Fawkes, blinding those eyes...a hat, granting a sword. How I ran. There upon the statue, Head of Salazar Slytherin, I battled for my life against a blinded snake. A mere boy against such a creature. Fangs against a blade. A sharp weapon piercing the brain as poisonous fangs pierced my arm._

_Venom of death burned through my blood. Sweat brushed my skin. My steps stumbling and pained. Ginny's energy slowly dwindling. Mine slowly eroding. But I wasn't going alone. Ginny may be by my side and I hers but Tom crowed with delight and triumphant. Oh, did he think I wouldn't listen. A memory from a book. From my arm a fang. If I died, so would he._

_Dark blood poured and bubbled, as black and thick as ink. Bursting from the bound pages, breaking his memory to nothing but pure light. Ah, but our time wasn't finished as he faded to blown pieces. I know I have much in common with Riddle. We are much alike, we too. Dark Lord. Boy Savior. But the only difference...I have someone to pull me from the edge of the cliff. I will not plunge to the icy depths of hell, suffering the darkness as I lose what little humanity I burn through my veins._

_I have the choice...the friends...the family. And I had my anger, my fury, my Slytherin. I had what makes me survive my years as the unwanted nephew and overwhelmed savior._

_Lucius was the ideal of perfect...the haughty rich man...the proud father...the exceptional son...a devoted servant. But he had his separate side as we all. Beneath the cool exterior beats the black heart of a planner, a sly cunning fox. But I too had that cunning, pitting myself against his great Master and himself...one day I will see which of us rises to the top of our little power game._

_I'm beginning to sense a pattern of my years as a student. Mum, Dad, would you laugh? Would you cry? Would you rage? Would you fight? Keep me safe and protected, knowing what we know? For once, I would like a Howler, a concerned parent. Do you watch over me? Do you see what I must do to survive? Do you aide me in my waning strength? Oh, how I wish I could see you one last time as the parents I dream. Open arms and smiles covering the raging inferno of concerned love and worry.//_

Harry sighed, staring down at his last words. "I love you."

Stretching, he didn't bother replacing the journal. He would be rising in a few hours anyways. He could hide his treasures then. For now, he needed sleep. Aching ink spotted fingers slipped over his clock, setting the alarm. Then they delicately scrapped over a sleeping Hedwig. She cooed very softly at his touch, barely ruffling a feather for him as his eyes fluttered close.

He began dreaming of a soft kiss upon his brow, a loving voice singing a lullaby, a deeper voice murmuring.

Footnote: Quotes from J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets...Quote 1: Page 13...Quote 2: Page 51...Quote 3: Page 138...Quote 4: Page 231...Quote 5: Page 293


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

_//July 28th 7:45 a.m._

_Third Year--- Family, truths, and the Prisoner of Azkaban September 1, 1993- June 1994 13 yrs. old_

_Oh, how I hated my summers. Every year I've had to return. Every year it's the same excuse, the wards keep me safe. Petunia was my only family. Blood family. Supposedly the only family. Wards protecting _my _family and myself were based on blood. Are they really protective if blood family could really care less? If they fell, would I end up somewhere else? If they were around the house, was I unsafe when we moved around to avoid my Hogwarts letter? Or did they move with us? Would they rebuild the wards if they fell? What exactly were they based upon? Would any other magical family have protective wards? Or am I _special_ because of my status? What dangers must pass in order for the wards to be placed?_

_I have a Dark Lord and his followers breathing down my neck. But what of families with Aurors or high-placed Ministry officials or _Light _families? Don't they flirt with danger every day?_

_It all comes down to family. And my Third Year was all about family._

_Oh, how I dreamed of family that cared for me. Me! To love me. To protect me. All I ever desired. My First Year with the Mirror of Erised proved that. And it all began with Marge Dursley. All my life I had been forced to call her aunt. A breeder of bulldogs. One in particular I really hate, Ripper. _

_One little accident and I'm up a tree for hours._

_She doesn't help much either. I knew one day my anger would overflow. Didn't help when I learned the truth about myself and my parents. And the day I dreaded came to be._

_Marge had come to visit, bringing Ripper and her attitude. Vernon had to pick her up at the airport. That gave me some time to think. The news had told of an escapee, Sirius Black. Why, oh, why had that sounded family familiar? Something told me I should know. It reminded me of my dreams of a flying motorcycle. Dreams that elude my working grasp and my consciousness. Why is it some things come when our mind is deep within itself (dreams, vague thoughts) but once noticed, it's gone? That is how I felt._

_A voice, so familiar, not remembered. Latent memories refusing to overcome their shyness. But reality came to front as Marge and Vernon entered the house. How I had to lie. St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys. What a mouthful. Still can't believe Vernon is able to play that gig. One would think that someone would find the holes in that theory. But my supposed school is to appease _Aunt _Marge. A place to supposedly beat me in to submission...a grateful attitude. Force me to become fit for society._

_I went along with the joke. Seemed Third Years were allowed to visit a village called Hogsmeade but needed permission from a parent or guardian. Unfortunately my parents were dead and my guardians were the Dursleys, people who rather I suffer than enjoy life._

_Oh, how difficult to promise to play along when I wanted something. Or to convince them when I couldn't convince them about Dobby. But it was the sweetest revenge. _

_We were having dinner. Meaning they were and I was the servant. Somehow Marge got onth on the subject of James and Lily Potter. She called James _"a no-account, good-for-nothing, lazy scrounger" (1)_...even had the nerve to say he was a drunk as Petunia always stuck by. That been to raise my anger. But I refused to blow. Until Lily Evans-Potter came to light._

_Said it wasn't the father's fault but the mother's. Said it was common among breeding..._"if there's something wrong with the bitch, there'll be something wrong with the pup." (2) _That clinched my anger._

_With emotion came wandless magic, uncontrollable but focused...focused on the anger and desire to avenge but not controllable on how it's applied (quite the theory or at least the theory I believe since no one's bothered to tell me any different) I wanted her to pay. And pay she did. Within minutes of her argument of my mother, my magic struck. Her body began to swell in enormous proportions, floating in the sky like a loose balloon._

_Now that I can think outside the anger, it was hilarious. Oh, I would have laughed as her clothing threatened to fall off, begging and pleading for help as she blew up, crying out with fear and anger as Vernon was unable to save her. She floated from his grasp and I fled for safety, no longer caring about underage magic or my livelihood beneath the wards._

_I met Sirius Black. It was a bit freaky seeing this huge black dog come out of nowhere. A dog I knew didn't belong. No one in Surrey had an animal like that. And if they did, I doubt they'd let it disappear from its leash...give vibes of hunger...coat look grimy and ungroomed. If the owner did, then they were horrible...abusive._

_The Knight Bus. A triple decker purple bus. Transportation for the stranded witch or wizard, could go anywhere for destination. Scary but magical. No Muggle could truly see it moving (too fast for my taste)...Slip around any obstacle (wary when it literally slimmed to a pancake to slip between to buses to continue forward). Beds instead of seats. How in the world can the patrons sleep with the jerky movements? How can one be comfortable while the beds slip and slide about? I was tossed from one end to the other...slammed into a window. Talk about ouch! But it got me to the Leaky Cauldron._

_I'm not to sure about magical transportation. Seems I have some kind of trouble with each of them. The Knight Bus was the first taste I had. (I like the Express better...so much like a regular Muggle train (To Hogwarts and back to Kings Cross Station))_

_Floo powder. Clumsy and tricky, yes. I can attest to that. The wrong pronunciation and you can end up anywhere. (My saying Diagon Alley took me to Knockturn Alley in Borgin and Burkes)_

_Portkey. Also tricky. Gives a sensation of jerking one's stomach. Transport from one place to another by use of a magical object. Don't like that nausea feeling of vertigo. (Very scary since one took me right to Voldemort in a face-to-face meeting)_

_Apparation. This one I think I'll take the others first. Not a clear picture in your mind and you'll lose a body part. Splinch yourself (too easy to do that...leaving half a part behind as the rest of you end up somewhere else. Could even end up in a solid object if not careful. Not very reassuring. (I saw a classmate leave behind a body part while the rest of them stood in the hoop during practice)_

_Time Turners. A small object used to turn back time by a few hours. Able to change things or to attend things done at the exact same moment. But dangerous to mess with time. Can't let anyone see two of you or allow yourself to spot your twin. Some may go mad, insane, or could be worse. Not a very pretty picture. (Didn't even know such things existed until Hermione showed off one)_

_Minister Cornelius Fudge. I thought I was in trouble but he was worrying over some thing else entirely. I figured it must be serious since my school books had been bought already. Wasn't allowed to wander very far in fear of my health. Least that's how I took it but I didn't need to face the Dursleys any time soon. Why is it no one really wanted to tell me? It's my life. I should be able to decide. Shouldn't I?_

_The Monster Book of Monsters. I knew it belonged to Hagrid. He would love something this dangerous (thinking it's cute and cuddly). Strange little thing. It actually had eyes and fur. Even tried to bite me when I loosened the strap upon it! It wouldn't surprise me if Hagrid was letting one (even a few) loose around his house._

_Sirius Black had to be after me. Fudge allowed me to stay. I didn't get sent back home. That clinched the news for me. Who else could they worry about when news say an escapee was loose? Or at least put two and two together to get four. But why me? Why now after all this time? And did that mysterious dog belong to him? The one that showed up out of the blue not long after he escaped? If he was truly after me why did it take twelve years for him to search me out? Twelve years in prison and he just now decides to escape? How could they be sure he _was _really after me? If he knew where I was, then why not leave years earlier?_

_Those thoughts plagued my sleep at night. I was curious and wanted to know. Then again I needed to know. Some piece of the puzzle was being hidden from me. I was beginning to fray as more of my life unraveled, secrets and truth coming from the woodwork. I didn't like not knowing the truth, not knowing everything. (Everyone's learned the hard way that I flee with little to no information to find the truth...danger and pain not long behind my escapes)_

_Ron was clutching Scabbers, arguing with Hermione. Once again that rat began to prickle at my mind, while a voice deep inside cried it was still alive. Ron was home fresh from Romania, even with a new wand. And Hermione from France with a new familiar, a ginger colored cat._

_New wand. Does that mean our first wands weren't truly perfect? Does that mean we'll always need new ones some time in the future? Would we get the same results and strength as our first wands?_

_Both made me feel despair, burning anger, and raging jealousy. I was never allowed on vacation. Always pawned off to another as the Dursleys left. I wanted to see surroundings never before seen. To be somewhere not Surrey or London. Maybe one day. Maybe._

_Promises. Why is everyone trying to extract them from me when it deals with truths, secrets, my life? They didn't say in so many words but they didn't want me going after Sirius Black. How little did they know. Sirius Black had everything I desired to know. I really wanted to know. And Sirius Black was key. What connection did he have with my parents, Halloween night, Voldemort, and me?_

_Dementors. Strange creatures dressed in flowing, tattered black cloaks draped around skeletal figures. Things of nightmares with rattling breaths and bony, decaying fingers. And so cold! Never have I felt that cold, not even during winter. I remembered! Dreams of eluding physical grasp. Flashes of green mixing with screams of Lily and James. Faint memories of sacrifice._

_Guards of Azkaban searching for Sirius Black. They fed upon the _good_ emotions, leaving the bad. Memories vanishing when attached good emotion as the pained, terrible, sad, and anger attached memories remain. Fudge had allowed them to haunt the school grounds. His belief I would be protected. Did he not realize the reaction I would have? Muggles would call it an allergy. I had an allergy! Almost laughable. Allergic reaction to Dementors._

_Twelve years. He definitely knew me. I began to realize that. He entered prison when I was but a year old. He was definitely connected to that Halloween night. I really, really wanted the key to all my questions. Perhaps gaining it would allow me the satisfaction of regaining my life and moving to the future._

_Remus J. Lupin. Our new Defense Professor. One glance and something unnatural was inside our dear Professor. He was tired, even after a full night's sleep. Weary and nervous. He tried to hide it but he was scared of us...no, he was scared for us. He truly thought he was a danger to the students. If that was true then why did Dumbledore hire him? Then again he did hire Quirrell long ago, only to realize the man had been corrupted around the same time I came to Hogwarts._

_Boggarts. Creatures living in the dark, in shadows of various places. Creatures who turned into your greatest fear. I wasn't allowed a try. His fear that Voldemort would cause a panic. Again, how little they know. Voldemort doesn't truly scare me. Dementors do. Cold and vague memories coming to front. They fed from me like a hungry man at a banquet. I was full of pain and suffering, enjoying little happiness. They seemed to love spreading about in hopes of devouring every little detail of me as I suffered my pain._

_Then came Remus. A full moon slowly peeking from behind thick clouds, brightening the world with is illuminating light. That clinched his fear. Who was afraid of full moons? When such a night or week befell our class, we suffered beneath Snape's cooled touch. Our first lesson, werewolves. Hermione may have guessed the connection and not said a word. But I knew it as well. I knew all about judging a book's cover._

_In every Muggle film (ones I did catch sight of when pawned off to babysitters or listening from my cupboard) spoke of man or woman becoming fearful of full moon nights, forced to become furry beasts of anger and bloodthirsty. Remus had to be such a creature. It would explain his need to fear for us. Nervous because he didn't know if one would fear and hate him if it came out. Like Hermione, I wasn't going to spill._

_I liked him. He took the time to teach me the Patronus Spell because I needed to defend myself against Dementors (I suffered them during my Quidditch match...falling from my broom because they decided to corner me in the sky, determined to feed). Feared fear itself, at least according to Remus. Constant trials (my stubbornness refused to let me lose) before I could produce a shield with my Patronus. A thing of beauty (Remus explained it was a proud stag...Prongs, much like my father when he was in school). Based on good thoughts._

_Sounds much like Peter Pan. With a dash of fairy dust and good thoughts, one could fly. Well, as long as one kept a hold of their thoughts, I could keep my Patronus out or perform the spell._

_When I fell, I lost not just the game but my beloved Nimbus 2000, shattered by the Whomping Willow. But not long after I had received a Firebolt. How ironic Hermione was. Truly was a gift from Sirius Black. Then came another gift, one from Fred and George. The Marauder's Map. A blank parchment (with the right code) could produce the entire castle in ink. I could find everyone upon it, see where they were, who they were. (Later I learned it never lies...Always tells who the person is, even through spells...Animagus forms...Polyjuice)_

_Peter Pettigrew had shown upon the Map. I thought he was dead. Everyone kept murmuring he was dead, murdered with thirteen Muggles the day after or the night of my parents' death by Sirius Black. But here was the so-called dead man...in Hogwarts. Worse yet, Sirius Black had entered as well. He was to be after me! But Ron claimed he was standing over him! Sirius had gone to Ron's bed, not mine. How could he miss me when I was but a foot away? Wasn't I to be the target? And if he went to Ron's bed, who was the true target? If Peter was alive, would Sirius have gone after him, knowing the man was not dead? (I was confused...why wasn't I the target as everyone hinted?)_

"The Dark Lord lies alone and friendless, abandoned by his followers. His servant has been chained these twelve years. Tonight, before midnight...the servant will break free and set out to rejoin his master. The Dark Lord will rise again with his servant's aid, greater and more terrible than ever he was. Tonight...before midnight...the servant...will set out...to rejoin...his master." (3)

_And Hermione thought Trelawney was a fake seer. Yes, she probably did make up a few things or _saw _very little. But when it came to a true prophecy, her voice was nothing like normally. It sounded deeper, wheezing...she seemed to be choking upon some item as she came to reality. I believed her._

_Family. That year was about family. Sirius Black wasn't just a believed murderer, he was my Godfather! He had legal rights to me! But in prison for the death of Pettigrew and my parents. He was the Secret Keeper! The one that should have kept them...me...safe from Voldemort. I promised to be ready for him. I was willing to ask him questions. But to be the reason my parents were betrayed and now dead. That asked for retribution I was willing to make._

_I was right. Scabbers wasn't a common rat. He really did live that long. An Animagus! And Sirius didn't own the dog. He was the dog. The Marauder's Map was coming to life. Prongs...my father, my Patronus, James Potter. Padfoot...my Godfather, Azkaban escapee, Sirius Black. Moony...my Professor, my friend, Remus Lupin. Wormtail...Ron's rat, our betrayer, Peter Pettigrew. _

_Power does awful things to people. Money and power and fame. Gilderoy Lockhart paid for his claim to fame...a patron of St. Mungo's. Lucius Malfoy bribed and paid his way out of trouble...a loyal servant of Voldemort. Peter Pettigrew will soon pay for his need of power...the betrayer of friends and family. He wanted to be remembered, to be seen, to be strong. Now he is nothing but the cowering rat doing as his master bids. Still hiding in shadows of greatness._

_He framed my Godfather in hopes of freedom. Faking his death to seal the deal. The true Secret Keeper of the Potters. He betrayed them, willingly. Telling us that he had no choice. There was one. Be faithful, die for them. I would have. Remus would have. Sirius would have. My parents would have...they did (Die for me). Instead of letting Pettigrew be murdered for his deeds, I wanted him to suffer Azkaban...to tell the world he lied...to tell everyone he was the reason Voldemort killed my parents and Sirius went to prison._

_I had forgotten Trelawney's prediction. I was worried about Pettigrew and Sirius. I wanted to be free of the Dursleys. And Pettigrew broke free of his chains to escape as we had to deal with a werewolf. No one seemed to remember it was a full moon night. Except for one. Snape. He had come to our rescue, knowing Remus didn't take his monthly potion._

_I let my parents' betrayer escape. I didn't let them deal with Pettigrew while we had the chance. I just didn't think I would regret it, even if Pettigrew owed me a debt I could collect anytime. Instead Sirius and I suffered the Dementors, saved by a Patronus (I truly thought it was my father coming to save us...the stag was truly James in Animagus form)._

_Oh, how beautiful he was. Strong and proud. Prongs: a vengeful, protective stag rushing to aid us as the Dementors grow closer. And when I learned the truth, how I wished it was my father. Completely forgetting that Prongs was my Patronus. And I had thought we were safe until Sirius was detained in a holding cell in some tower, awaiting the Dementors...awaiting the Kiss._

"If all goes well, you will be able to save more than one innocent life." (4) "Three turns should do it." (5)

_How I wished to go back years. Could one go back years? Is there a device to help go back in time and not by increment of hours? Could I change the past for a better future? But will that change be catastrophic? If I saved my parents, would someone else lose a family? If I told someone of Pettigrew's betrayal, would that make a difference? If I made the change, would Voldemort have an easier time taking over? Could I go back and keep Tom Riddle from becoming Voldemort? Would someone else have risen in his stead? Someone darker?_

_And I thought Dumbledore was barmy until Hermione pulled a golden chain from her neck, a small hour glass hanging at the end. Her gift from the Ministry because she had too many classes...several starting at the same time. It would explain her sudden appearances during Defense or her disappearance while Ron and I were distracted._

_More than one life. The only life I truly wanted to save was Sirius. Hermione had wanted to save Buckbeak from execution. Malfoy thought it prudent to stage his accident as worse than a deep scrape. He was insulting to the Hippogriff. A proud animal wanting the respect as any proud creature would wish. He used his claim to injury to cry to Daddy. Lucius went to the Ministry and set up the execution of a dangerous animal._

_I was truly glad Hermione care much for Buckbeak and led me to his rescue. It gave Sirius the means to escape, to fly off into the sunset as Muggles like to say. In the end we had saved Sirius and Buckbeak fro their despairing fates. My heart broke as I was forced to watch him flee. Oh, how I wished to run with him. To leave behind everything. He wanted me to remain. To gain my education. To live my life to the fullest and not hidden in shadows, afraid. In the end I had to return to Petunia.//_

Tears spilled down flushed, warm cheeks, barely missing wet ink as he turned away. "And my heart still breaks, Sirius. I need you. I can't do this on my own." He left his journal, throwing his body down on the bed, silently sobbing into his pillow. He knew it would only grow worse. Tears had finally been freed again. His next three years would be nothing but tears.

The heavy burden of sadness, guilt, and shame were lifting. Freeing him of their invisible chains, allowing him the chance to sob out the frustrations, the pain, the sorrows, the guilt, the despair, the dying hope. The flood gates were opened once more. He needed this. His strength was waning beneath the burden, hoping for a miracle...needing a miracle...to protect him from the future. "I miss you."

Footnote: Quotes from J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban...Quote 1: Page 28...Quote 2: Page 25...Quote 3: Page 324...Quotes 4 and 5: Page 393


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

_//July 29th 10:00 p.m._

_Fourth Year----Betrayals, danger, and the Goblet of Fire September 1, 1994- June 1995 14 yrs old_

_If my Third Year was all about family, then my Fourth Year was about friendship. That began the hardest things for me. I learned more than I truly wanted. I also learned that my scar was more than that. It was a link to Voldemort, created the night he tried to kill me. A link that to this day I absolutely despise. It's nothing but pure trouble._

_That same year I found myself falling, falling for a pretty face. Cho Chang. Fellow Seeker, but of Ravenclaw._

_Before Hogwarts I had the strangest dream. Wormtail and Voldemort were discussing my fate. Something dealing with a spell that could use me as a sacrifice. There was another servant of Voldemort's at Hogwarts. I wonder if that servant was the strange young man kneeling at Voldemort's side as Pettigrew cowered before them. And as I began to wake, I was forced to witness the Muggle Caretaker (a Muggle that had been taking care of the home and land they had taken as a hideout) die by Voldemort's wand._

_How my scar burned as the Killing Curse was tossed. Hurt to touch but it's instinctive to touch some thing that pains one-self. I had written a letter to Sirius because I was afraid of what others would say, especially Dumbledore. Until he replied I had been invited to the Burrow. The Weasleys had tickets to a game called Quidditch World Cup. An infamous international game with famous teams and well-known players. But the only way to arrive was by a portkey. We were sharing one with the Diggorys. Amos Diggory and his son, Cedric._

_Cedric Diggory. A Hufflepuff student at Hogwarts. Captain and Seeker of his Quidditch team. He beat me to the snitch the year before when I had fallen from my broom because of the Dementors. He became my rival in more ways than one._

_Things fell apart after the game. A riot had broken out. Death Eaters had stormed the campsite, burning it to the ground. By the end, someone had conjured the Dark Mark, a skull with a snake slithering from its mouth. By the time we arrived at Hogwarts, I felt uneasy. A servant was here, bidding their time to caput capture me and as far as I knew Snape was the only one to truly hate me and might wish me harm. The Slytherins simply like to humiliate me. But Snape did always protect me despite his seeming hatred, though I wasn't sure why._

_The Triwizard Tournament. A competition to promote alliances between three schools: Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, and Hogwarts. One champion from each to participate in three dangerous events. Only those with their name in the Goblet of Fire (and those over the age of seventeen, Ministry rules because of the dangerous events) could be chosen._

_About the time of choosing I had began to notice Cho Chang as a pretty face, not just a talented Seeker. Dark hair and eyes. Almost exotic looking. My, how my heart rapidly beat, almost pounding through my chest. Such a fool I had became with every sweet smile she sent my way. I could see her hair flying behind her as she flew through the air in my dreams, hear her ringing laughter, eyes sparkling as she struggled for the snitch, curved lips begging me to join with that tempting smile._

_Perhaps I should ignore that. Dreams of that time were just that, dreams. Guess I had fallen hard for someone. My first true crush upon a girl. But she wasn't really mine and I still wanted her, desired her, thought I loved her._

_Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody. An Auror. A wizard's version of a Muggle police officer. He seemed...different. Okay, different isn't the word I should use. He was strange. A moving eye, magical actually (can see through a lot of things even through the back of his head). Scary. A fake leg and scars. Symbols of war, battle, and survival. Paranoia engaged from years of tracking Death Eaters, anyone who the Ministry believed traitors or trouble or Dark. He didn't seem to trust his surroundings, drinking only from a flask at his side._

_I shuddered, eyeing him. We all did. We even pondered his drink. Bets made, hoping one of us would win. And not one did. We were all wrong. He would sip at the most strangest times, especially during class. What man or woman would drink in full view of all their students or during any class time. He would even shudder with every sip. Strange. I wondered._

_Something was definitely wrong. One doesn't shudder in disgust at a drink, unless they are trying it for the first time. Or taking some type of distasteful item, like Potions. And in the magical world, there was no other medicines but potions. And I believe drinks were forbidden during class. So, what potion did Moody take? Especially one at odd hours or almost every hour if I adding correctly? The only one I knew of was Polyjuice (I had used it during my Second Year with Ron and Hermione. Ron and I had become Crabbe and Goyle to trick Malfoy into revealing who the Slytherin Heir was. Hermione had turned in to a feline-humanoid; whiskers, tail, fur, and all. Disgusting stuff and only lasted an hour unless you could keep drinking every hour as well as have an endless supply of needed hair of your victim to add in the potion). But my question was, why would Moody need Polyjuice? I had thought for one second that perhaps he was the traitor to Hogwarts, the servant needing to take me to Voldemort. But he was always around when I needed help. He had every chance to force me to disappear. So, he couldn't be the impostor, right? So, what was the potion? We had a highly skilled Medi-witch, Madame Pomfrey. There was even Snape, a Potions Master. Surely Moody could use their expertise, right? Not suffer some injure on his own, right?_

_Despite my misgivings and suspicions, Moody was brilliant. _"Professor Moody! What--what are you doing?" "Teaching." "Teach---Moody, _is that a student_?" "Yep." "Moody we _never _use Transfiguration as a punishment!" (1 and 2) _Oh, that conversation was hilarious. I had a run-in with Malfoy, who was trying to curse me from behind but Moody caught him in the act. In place of the human boy was a white ferret, courtesy of Moody's spell. Oh, how we all laughed as that creature bounced from floor to ceiling until McGonagall had suddenly arrived. Guess human transfiguration was a dangerous as well as unacceptable as a punishment, but not by Moody's way of thinking._

_Our laughter didn't remain long, even after the whole Moody-McGonagall deal. Unforgivable Curses. Imperius Curse, the ability to control one's mind. Oh, at first we had laughed when the spider Moody controlled danced until he tried to make it jump through a closed window, drown itself. Cruciatus Curse, the ability to cause extreme pain. We cringed as the spider contorted itself in pain, screeching. One could go insane if held too long. Oh, how it burns, body hot with pain. Nothing you do could stop it. Tearing at your own limbs, throat torn from screams, mind numb with pain, nerves burning with fire, lungs panting for air. Never would I wish that on my worst enemy, not even Malfoy. It was cruel! Pure and simple. And I believe I'm not the only one. The look on Neville's face as it was cast. He knew it's effects too well. (wouldn't be till later we would learn the truth about Neville's parents suffering that curse, still locked in St. Mungo's suffering the after-effects of the curse being held too long). Then my unconscious nightmares came to front, the Killing Curse. A flash of emerald green and you're dead. None had survived but me._

_Imperio, control. Crucio, pain. Avada Kedavra, death. Three spells left us shaken. Some in tears. Our nightmares had come to reality. Our reality came to life. Neville and I had suffered the most. I lost my parents to death and he lost his to extreme pain. My parents were the prized reward of Voldemort. Neville's parents were the prized reward of Bellatrix Lestrange. Wasn't fair for us to re-live those nightmares. I had hoped for brighter days and my world turned bleak. _

_The choosing of the Champions. _

_Durmstrang. Viktor Krum. I've seen him in action as a Seeker. Ron's favorite player. I've also seen how Hermione eyed him, though she tried hiding the interest behind her love of knowledge and disgust at a pretty boy being chased by giggling pack of girls. I felt pleased for her as he ignored every giggle, watching her instead. She deserved to be wanted, to be desired, to feel feminine despite her need to be logical and hide behind the books. Everyone treated her like a horrid bookworm or just one of the guys. Now was her time to shine, to be the girl she was born to be._

_Beauxbatons. Fleur Delacour. A lovely blonde with a Veela background in her family heritage. She attracted everyone's attention as she entered behind the dancing girls from her school. And at her side was a tiny blonde, her sister, Gabrielle. Every guy wanted to date her or be around her. She radiated allurement and grace. She was confident in who she was, willing to give her all._

_Hogwarts. Cedric Diggory. My rival. Not just in sport but for the love of one girl, Cho Chang. To many he was a pretty boy, a Hufflepuff Seeker. I saw his as a boy who was strong and willing. Like Fleur, he was confident in himself, though sometimes a bit worried. He was also willing to give his all. He struggled as we all do._

_And then all hell broke loose. Determined by Fate that I suffer. Someone had placed my name within the Goblet, tricking it to accept an underage student. The schools roared with insults, anger and hatred. Once again they turned their backs upon me. Nothing I said or did could change their opinion. Even Ron turned from me and my own Headmaster at that time (afterwards it was different) seemed to have little faith in my truth._

_How I wanted to rage. How I wanted to cry. I would never be good enough. Why should I save them if one little misplaced detail causes all this? But when I see the innocence of a child, the unwavering loyalty of a select few, I knew. By law I would suffer the three tasks. But I was determined not to fail and prove it wasn't me to cheat. At least that's how I saw everything in my mind. I was determined to make sure those innocent didn't suffer from someone else's mistake or actual meaning._

_First task. I wouldn't have known if Hagrid had taken me along on his _little_ walk with Madame Maxime in the woods. Dragons. Four for each champion. I used to dream of them. Pretend I was the knight saving a lady fair. But with my luck, I had drawn the Hungarian Horntail. A vicious dragon. Dangerous and fierce. Too many close calls. A fight to take the golden egg from a nesting mother. Who else would protect an egg from an invader trying to steal it? _

_What would happen if one never got the egg? If the dragon succeeded in harm to the Champion? Was anyone on hand to save them, us, from fatal injuries? Could we go on if we didn't get the egg? But I guess we were all prepared. Madame Maxime had told her Champion all about the dragons. Karkaroff had told his Champion. And I had hunted down Cedric for the heads up. Still, what if those preparations hadn't worked? Who would stop the dragons? The handlers, the professors?_

_Second Task. The dragon had been a bit easy. Okay, truthfully I hadn't thought I'd make it. Moody had taught me a spell that might help me. Like I had with the dragon, Cedric had told me how to discover the clue for the egg. What exactly what a bath would have done? It wasn't until I had gone to the Prefect's Bath, I learned the truth. _

"Come seek us where our voices sound, we cannot sing above the ground. And while you're searching ponder this: We've taken what you'll sorely miss, an hour long you'll have to look, and to recover what we took, but past an hour--the prospect's black, too late, it's gone, it won't come back." (3)

_I'm beginning to hate riddles and prophecies, even anagrams. Tom Marvolo Riddle equals I am Lord Voldemort. But it took time to decipher the clue. Merpeople will take what's mine. All the Champions. We had to search the Black Lake. I had refused to leave the lake until all the missing items, actually people would return to the surface: Hermione Granger for Krum, Ronald Weasley for me, Cho Chang for Cedric, Gabrielle Delacour for Fleur. But something happened to Fleur. All but Ron and Gabrielle had been saved. I risked the end of the Gillyweed (my way of breathing underwater by growing gills) and drowning myself to help the two to the surface._

_Yule Ball. I had no idea that I would be forced to dance before everyone. I can't dance! Even worse, we had to find a date to the Ball. I wanted to take Cho, hoping it would give us closure and have her fall for me as hard as I fell for her. But Cedric had asked her first. I believe to this day, every smile and coy look my way meant for me to ask her but she grew tired of waiting and went with Cedric. In the end I had asked one of the Patil sisters, twin girls with exotic looks and heritage themselves. And I'm still embarassed. I couldn't dance (had to let my date lead me! lead me as we danced) nor could I show her a good time (forced her to sit out most of the dance as everyone enjoyed the music, food, and dance) Parvati and Padma had been mine and Ron's date._

_Ron. Guess it took some time before he believed me. Just after I survived my encounter with the Hungarian Horntail. I had my friend back even if I could still hear that voice that this wouldn't be the last time he and the public might turn their backs upon me. I couldn't find fault in that voice. Ron was hot-tempered, quick to blame things and people. He seemed to hate being my side-kicked but liked being my friend. I'm afraid that one day they all might break me._

_A disaster, that Yule Ball. Determined to make things right, I had hunted down the Patil sisters. I apologized for my behavior, telling them the truth. Like Hermione, they deserved better. I couldn't let them suffer for my mistakes or the future with knowledge that I was rude to them without an apology or a token of my appreciation for even trying to deal with me and Ron during Yule Ball, as well as afterwards. The least I could do to mend their anger, disappointment, and spite._

_Third Task. The maze. My worst nightmare came to life, breathing. We, the Champions, had to battle various creatures and spells within the enormous maze. We never knew what was around the corner of a path we chose. And the trouble didn't stop there. The key was to find our way to the middle of the maze and touch the cup for the win._

_Viktor Krum had been bewitched. I don't know how or if he was since the beginning of the Tournament or just before this task. Someone had gotten to him, hoping he would take out the competition so I would have a better chance of ending up in Voldemort's care without any mishaps. He had taken out Fleur. I found her, sending up red sparks to alert the others of her need for help. He went for Cedric, who tried protecting me. Krum had been bound; we sending out another set of sparks for his aid._

_Why not me? I was the target. Why wouldn't he just take out me? That would have been the simplest way to ensure Voldemort's reign. He could have be bound, unconscious, unable to fight back. _

_In the end it was Cedric and I left to take the cup. We had touched it together. The sudden jerk of a portkey had me remembering. Moody would show up at weird times, protecting me, taking me aside for talks. My dream from that summer of the new servant sent to prepare my way to Voldemort's grasp. Then the map. I remember glancing at it and not seeing Moody anywhere (at the time I thought he wasn't in an area the map could see) in his place was someone named Barty Crouch, Jr. And here I thought that man was in prison. According to Dumbledore's pensieve (I had been curious and fallen into it) the man had been announced as a Death Eater and sent to Azkaban. Ironically, it was the same man from my dreams! The servant to kidnap me!_

_The map never lies. Remus said so in my Third Year when I had discovered Peter Pettigrew upon its surface. If Crouch, Jr. was in Hogwarts, he was disguised. Only one spell or potion could do that. Polyjuice. That was why Moody shuddered in disgust every hour. His flash was always filled with Polyjuice. And the lights dawned further. All year Moody had been a tad overprotective of me. Always wanted me safe, almost isolated. He wanted me to live, to survive the first two tasks until I could reach the Third Task. He bewitched Krum to off the competition, leaving me to track down the middle of the maze. He charmed the Goblet to accept my name. Made the cup in to a portkey._

_How could anyone not know? Dumbledore said the man was a great friend. Snape was always suspicious of others. Wasn't there clues? Wouldn't odd behavior be one? To become someone, you must know every detail. Malfoy knew Ron and I were acting odd when we had impersonated Crabbe and Goyle. One slip of the tongue and the truth is free. But no one knew! Not even me! I hadn't listened to myself._

_And here I was stuck in a maze trying to survive. A fourteen-year-old boy wanting to win, hoping to impress everyone or to prove his worth. In the end Cedric and I tied, I wouldn't allow myself to be the only one. If my name hadn't been forced in the game, Cedric would be the true Champion, the true winner. He deserved a claim to fame. One of my nightmares came to front. The very place of visions. The house Voldemort took over in the background and a graveyard in the foreground. I didn't want to be there. I wanted to leave before something went wrong._

"Kill the spare!" (4) _Words that still haunt me to this day. Faces that refuse to leave. Cedric was coldly murdered all because he was with me. I should have truly known. I shouldn't had let Cedric join me. A great plot to destroy my life and give birth to another. I cried. Forced to watch. _

_He was alive. The most feared man was now almost human. My only mercy, a duel to death but with brother wands, we had connected. Those he murdered had emerged from his wand, standing at my side in determination to aid me so I may live and portkey home to Hogwarts. I fled as they overwhelmed Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Tears flowed free as all slowly realized Cedric was dead and I hysterical._

_With a heavy heart I felt disconnected. Fudge refused to listen to truth, even with proof as Snape showed him the glowing Dark Mark. Refused to believe upstanding Ministry Officials and society members had returned to the aide of their Master, Voldemort. I cried for the future. Fudge would bring us to ruin. I cried for Snape, risking his life as a spy. I cried for the world. Darkness was coming. I cried for Sirius, he would vanish from me, no matter the promises, I already knew the truth. Everything I knew was about to change. And not for the better.//_

Harry barely put away his things, fighting a losing battle, when the river of tears began to flow. _Nothing is better._ Teary emerald eyes stared at the night sky, watching the stars blink, hot tear drops rolling down flush cheeks. "You promised, Sirius. You promised to be here for me. You promised your safety." Heartache boiled over to rage, "Why did you lie? I needed you. I needed them. I needed someone. I still need you." He burrowed in his bed, sobbing quietly. His words muffled by his pillow, "Help me, please. I can't. Someone help me."

Footnote: Quotes from J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter and The Goblet of Fire...Quote 1: Page 205...Quote 2: Page 206...Quote 3: Page 463...Quote 4: Page 638


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Just a quick note here...I got a review about this not getting into a plot or anything...I thought I'd mention that the story is simply Harry's reflection of the magical world as he waits to fulfill a promise (it's simply Harry's need to unburden himself before everything weighs him down)...Also, many of you shall enjoy this: I have finally finished New Leaf's Sequel...my beta has the story but it'll be awhile before I can get it posted as she's out of town for a few days and I will still need to do last minute corrections**

* * *

**Chapter Six**

_//July 30th 12:00 p.m._

_Fifth Year----Visions, plots, and the Order of the Phoenix September 1, 1995-June 1996 15 yrs. old_

_Amazing how my first two years of school were tame and my Third Year began the crumbling of my world. My Fourth Year began the nightmares. Now my Fifth Year began the conclusion of my past, present, and future._

_As usual my summers were spent with the Dursleys. A place of safety for me from Voldemort as I dreamed of elsewhere. As much as I may dislike my relatives, I would never wish physical harm or death. I wouldn't wish them to my worst enemy nor my worst fear._

_Somehow Dementors had come to Little Whinging. Someone led them to my town, my home. Letting them loose in hopes of quieting me. Didn't this person realize that Dementors can't truly be controlled? That Dementors thrived on sucking the souls from anyone in their path? Dudley had been attacked! I didn't care for expulsion anymore. I would willingly expose the wizarding world if it meant saving an innocent from a premature death because a fellow wizard wanted me dead, possibly quieted by being kissed. After all, Dudley may be a bully and spiteful but no one deserved the Dementors (unless they were insane and enjoyed destroying the lives of innocent just to celebrate pain and death.) (Those like Bellatrix Lestrange and the Death Eaters, especially Peter Pettigrew.)_

_One determined Patronus spell and Prongs came to the rescue. The aftermath was shockingly revealing._

_Vernon had blown a gasket trying to discover Dudley's sudden illness (his exposure to the Dementors). What got me was the amount of magical knowledge Petunia knew when she tried her absolute best to have nothing to do with magic. But the slips she made, _"They guard the wizard prison, Azkaban." (1), _had us all shocked. I thought she hated the magic Lily could produce. Obviously she learned more than she thought possible._

_Poor Vernon. Owl after owl would arrive, agitating him. The anger went further as Petunia displayed what she knew and the letter that had arrived for her. _"Remember my last, Petunia!" (2) _She knew who it was. Vernon and I wanted to know. I wanted to know who could scare her that bad, make the blood drain from her face. She knew all about the wizarding world's bogeyman, Voldemort. Knowing what he could and would do made her upset but knowing what that mysterious voice could do caused her true fear._

_Why would she get a Howler? Yes, Lily was her sister and as I suspected at the time, she could have overheard the knowledge from Lily. But if she hated magic so much, why would she listen? Why would she remember? Who did she know in the magical world that scared her? Who could make her keep me with that fear buried in her mind?_

_I was hoping that year I would learn the truths that were being held against me. I learned some secretive truths, slowly being revealed through my years. Until I was told, I could only hope._

"The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London." (3)

_Grimmauld Place. Belonged in the Black family and to Sirius Black, who was the current owner. Didn't really like it much. Too dark and dreary for my taste. Even the House elf, Kreacher, seemed rebellious. His attitude towards those in the house and his Master should have been obvious. I felt deep in my gut that Kreacher would be trouble, that he would be the reason why I felt uneasy in Grimmauld Place._

_Kreacher would be nothing but trouble. He believed in the Dark, loyal only to his Mistress but forced to obey his Master. Sirius was still a Black but tossed out of the family. Not only that, Kreacher's beloved Mistress happened to be Sirius' own mother. A portrait of his deceased mother still hung in the hall of the house, hidden behind thick curtains to curb her vile tongue. How she'd rant and rage if the curtains were disturbed. _"Filth! Scum! By-products of dirt and vileness!" "Blood traitor, abomination, shame of my flesh!" (4)

_I think she has a problem with those of the light and _questionable_ blood. Half-bloods, Muggleborns, Pureblood Light members, Blood traitors._

_At least I got to spend some time with my Godfather before the new year began and ended._

_One look at Fudge when we first met, I did like him. Now, I dislike him. He dared to change the time to my hearing for using the Patronus spell. Not only that, one second and closer look told me. Something was going to happen. He had a plan but wasn't sure how it would pan out. That gave me the willies. I truly believe that Fudge hoped for me to fail my hearing. Imagine my luck as Dumbledore came to my aide._

_Fudge was not happy. Nor the woman trying to hide in the shadows. When I saw her face, a cold chill burrowed down my spine. It was her. I knew it but couldn't prove it. Not yet I couldn't. She would be trouble, one I would need to watch out for. But I never counted on my blinding anger (the same one that led me wrong in my Third Year.)_

_My mental warning of trouble was echoed by the Sorting Hat when it changed its original song. These lines stood out in everyone's mind, even mind today. _"For our Hogwarts is in danger from external, deadly foes and we must unite inside her or we'll crumble within. I have told you, I have warned you." (5)

_And we gained a new DADA Professor. Unsurprisingly, I knew who it would be, Dolores Umbridge. Just about everyone soon began to hate her. Her teaching habit was dreadful. We weren't learning a thing! Even Hermione, who loved learning and reading, didn't feel she was learning a single detail. Then there was the lying Umbridge believed I was contributing to the paranoia that Voldemort was back. My anger had clouded my judgment, arguing with her heatedly. And detention with her was painful. She enjoyed trying to find ways to humiliate me or to force me to recant my confessions. She never could get me to change my story. In the end I was forced to _enjoy_ the company of a Blood Quill, _"I must not tell lies." (6)

_Cho Chang. She became the good in my life at that time. She came to me, still smiling my way. But in her eyes were tears of sadness. She mourned Cedric's death still. Knowing she still belonged to Cedric didn't make me feel as good as I did last year. We dated or tried to date. I was cruel to the memory of Cedric's death. I didn't deserve her. Cedric was a wonderful guy despite being my rival. His memory should not be stained by a boy desperate enough to hook up with his ex-girlfriend. I wanted to date her, wanted her to be mine. I didn't care much that Cedric was gone and she still mourned him. Guess that's why I am glad things didn't work out for us. On one date, she couldn't stop crying. Our kiss was filled with salt and tears. Nothing like I had hoped nor dreamed since my crush upon her. She was too emotional, hung up on Cedric's ghost._

_Umbridge was the bane of all of us. Well, except the Slytherins. Did they automatically like someone the rest of us hate? Is that why they were eager to join her? Is that why they eagerly told stories to Rita Skeeter? Is that why they sneered at Remus because we liked him? Is that why they're against Dumbledore, who thought he was trying to help them? Is that why they're against the world? Is this why Voldemort wants to be ruler? To take over? Is it why they wish to eradicate Muggles or keep Muggleborns (as well as other questionable blood lines in their opinion) from ever seeing the magical world? Is it them who help demote those they hate and promote those they like? _

_High Inquisitor. What a unique position by Fudge. He wanted full control of Hogwarts and the only he could manage that was putting Umbridge in a powerful position. I think they were both high on power and hoped that high would lead to their downfall. If they didn't like something, they would ban it! Fudge didn't like being proved wrong or have anything threaten his authority nor position. Umbridge would do anything to have such power and be an important Ministry official. They also hoped that they would be the ones to prove to the world Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore were liars and the world was absolutely, positively safe from Voldemort as well as the Death Eaters._

_Why would the Professors allow Umbridge to go that far? She had the nerve to question every Professor upon their teaching habits, going as far as allowing the Slytherins to make up anything they wish for her enjoyment. They kept telling me to control my anger but they were close to losing theirs. They almost provoked her to do what she wished. _

_Fudge tried his best to control the school. What I couldn't understand was this. Dumbledore was revered by the public. Everyone had a high opinion of him. I was their savior, even if they kept turning their backs on me. Despite that, Dumbledore allowed Fudge and Umbridge to do what they wish. Why? He refused to fight back. He would go along with Fudge's outrageous predictions._

_A Dementor sent to frighten me into recanting or to shut me up for good (a Kiss...the lost of my soul.)_

_A Ministry hearing for accidental magic to expel me from school. He wanted to cut me off from everything magic. Discredit me to the world._

_A new Professor. She had his ultimate permission to do whatever it took to quiet me._

_A High Inquisitor. This was the last ditch attempt to stop me from telling the truth. Nothing she denied me or banned would keep me down._

_Oh, how they ranted and raged. Nothing worked. Oh, my anger grew. I suffered a scar upon my hand, the loss of my broom, the banning from Quidditch, multiple detentions, upset Professors. But I fought back in ways that I could. I refused to recant. Detentions, I kept gaining them by correcting her. Dementors, I fought off knowing I might be expelled. My meeting, I angered Fudge with witnesses and Dumbledore at my side. Banned, I used that freedom of time towards something else._

_Dumbledore's Army. I did like Cho's idea. Defense Association. That's what that club was all about. Defense tactics we weren't learning in class. Anyone who was interested was invited. What I couldn't believe was Dumbledore's need to save me, to protect me. He made Fudge believe I had nothing to do with the club but that he did. A betrayer, Marietta Edgecomb, had told off the meetings. Hermione's logical thinking had hexed our betrayer. I was confused through it all but I knew something was about to happen._

_Umbridge became Headmistress. Wait! I thought McGonagall was the Deputy Headmistress. Wouldn't she be the next in line if the Headmaster had left? For any reason? Why didn't she become the Headmistress? Why didn't Hogwarts allow her the chance? Why would the school allow Umbridge in control? What would happen to the students? The classes? The Professors? Better yet, what would happen to me? She could do just about anything her heart desired against me._

_But I thanked Fred and George. If it wasn't for them, I wouldn't have stayed. I would have fled from the school, no matter Remus' and Sirius' comforting words. I would have run to them. But our identical twin pranksters gave us a laugh in this horrid time. When Umbridge became Headmistress, they released prototypes pranks in the school._

_But she didn't pay enough. She had the nerve to almost fatally injure my owl, Hedwig. She was trying to discover something that wasn't for her. I knew my fears came to light. She was abusing her power with Fudge's knowledge (but I knew if that came out, Fudge would save his own skin, leaving Umbridge to the bloodthirsty public.) She dared to mix Veritaserum in drinks, hoping I would try it and tell her anything she wanted. First, she didn't realize that Snape was protecting me, giving her a fake (water and possible a potion mixed in that would cause me no harm.) Second, did she honestly think I would allow her to give me anything? Did she think I was that stupid? I saw the gleam in her eye. I didn't trust her since I first saw her. What her think I would trust her now? She should have known better, as well as realized that I was playing along (pretending to drink to satisfy her.) Oh, I did love the frustration on her face and the anger. My reward, the Cruciatus Curse!_

_I knew my instincts could never prove me wrong. At least so far they haven't (they've been clouded by anger and pain.) Did the Slytherins know what she was trying to do to me? Did they really want to see me in pain? Was it their dream to see the savior writhing and screaming? Perhaps I was wrong about them. Perhaps they all wish to be Dark. Perhaps they are betrayers. Perhaps they deserve whatever pained punishment the future throws their way. Perhaps they deserve to pay. Perhaps the Weasleys were right. Perhaps anyone with any type of connection to Dark would become a Death Eater._

_I had enough reaping what I didn't sow. Visions. I suffered nightmares that were actually visions. I suffered feeling Voldemort in my head. I suffered pain of a scarring Blood Quill. I suffered the humiliation of Umbridge. I suffered the smudging of a ghost's memory by dating its girl. I suffered betrayal of said girlfriend's best friend. I suffered the loss of Dumbledore. I suffered the eagerness of the Slytherins. I suffered the knowledge ruining the Weasleys' holiday (Arthur had been attacked by Voldemort's familiar, Nagini...they had Christmas in St. Mungo's because he had been bitten by the poisonous snake.) I suffered the most horrifying moment of my life (the loss of my only family left alive.)_

_I thought Voldemort had him. Tortured and dying. I blamed Snape for the failed ability of Occlumency (ability to close off one's mind...Legilimency is the ability to invade one's mind.) I didn't have the shield to protect my mind and Voldemort got inside. He showed me a false vision, knowing of our link. I blamed Dumbledore for leaving me when he knew what was going on. I blamed Remus for not letting me go. I blamed the Order and the Ministry for forcing Sirius to deal with a treacherous creature._

_My fear of losing him over-rode my instincts. Both screaming to find Sirius safe and healthy but in different directions. I wanted to hunt him down at the Department of Mysteries and my instincts wanted to find him at Grimmauld Place. Kreacher was loyal to the Black family but took anything said literal. He betrayed his Master to a new Mistress and lied to me. I knew I should have stepped through or screamed for Sirius in the fireplace. I knew I should have found another way to contact him (my mirror he gave me as a present.) I could have gotten the one person who would learn the truth no matter what anyone but me said, Dobby. He was my elf, my friend. He would do anything to aide me. He could have quenched my fear of Sirius' death. But I ignored it as I did my training._

_Occlumency. Due to fail once I learned Snape was the trainer. We never could get along. He saw what memories I stored in my mind of my past. Nothing rang clear to his idea of me being my pampered father's twin. And I, I saw the truth of my _perfect _father (the man was as much a bully as Dudley...Sirius at his side.) Why did Dumbledore pair me with Snape? Yes, I'm sure those twinkling blue eyes hoped it would propose a better understanding, an easier relationship, between the two of us._

_I mean, Snape saw me as a spoiled savior. Until he saw my memories. I saw him as an unfair, biased Professor. Until I saw his pensieve. (We lived our lives with difficult times, forcing us to be who we were...after all everyone seemed to favor three of the four Houses and the Slytherins needed someone on their side, Snape.) Yet I respected him as my Professor, a Potions Master, a Head of House, a protector, a trainer. I just didn't want him in my head nor anyone knowing who I really was or what I was thinking. (I lived my life being overruled and playing a part...what was being The-Boy-Who-Live but a part to play?)_

_How would I know if my memories wouldn't be played against me? Was I guanant guaranteed he wouldn't spill? Did he realize the same with me? Did he have any proof that I wouldn't breathe a word of his pensieve? But Snape was a private person. He respected the need for privacy. He didn't want his past come to light any more than I did. He (and I) was taking a _big _step in trust, hoping the other wouldn't say a word._

_How am I to relax my mind, knowing what would happened? Was there to be a wall, a shield, to suddenly spring forward? Was I to slowly build one? Visualize it as each brick or panel fell into place? Were there different methods of Legilimency? Wouldn't Voldemort forcibly ram into my head to look for information, plowing through any barriers? Or would he try for subtle, hoping I wouldn't feel a thing and unknowingly reveal my secrets? Did Snape have to suddenly cast? Was that the method? Would someone try to take another by surprise? Did it have to be by eye contact? After all, Voldemort went through the link we shared, not eye contact...would that matter? How does one block that? The quickest way would be to get through without the other knowing, right? Not just barging in, announced, right? Wouldn't that have been a better method to teach me, Snape? Instead of forcing your way inside while I knew? Or was that to teach me the characteristics, the signs of such an invasion? Why didn't you teach me how to build a wall or relax enough to fight back? Why didn't you, instead of barging right in when I had no idea how that spell was done?_

_Oh, how I wanted to cry. I saw that pensieve. James Potter and Sirius Black were laughing cruelly as they held Snape under their power. In their place I saw Dudley and his gang laughing cruelly as I suffered beneath their power. How could he? How could they? Now I know why Snape was reluctant, at first. He put those embarrassing memories (ones I deserved to know the truth since all I learned were the good) away. I deserved to know the whole truth about my family. I deserved to know that dad wasn't as wonderful, as caring, as loving, as friendly, as popular, as helpful...he was that only from those who never saw him do wrong or didn't want me to hear him do wrong. It took the man who despised the Potter line to show me the truth._

_Yes, Malfoy and I were rivals, equals. We fought and argued. We gave as good as the other got. Sure, Malfoy was underhanded and sneaky but he was a Slytherin. I knew this and expected this. Rarely did the blonde ever try to search me out just to say a few _words._ I didn't single him out as much as Ron did. _

_Amazing that Ron made Prefect that year. He didn't need that responsibility. He was too hot-tempered and prone to revenge. He abused his status in hopes of humiliating the Slytherins and proving the Light was better. He was prone to fight back for every little detail. Prefect status needed someone who was level-headed, calm in any situation, and rational enough to find the cause as well as set necessary punishment. Hermione was the perfect person. She was logical and always trying to keep us from fighting. Well, she did lose her temper in Third Year and slapped Malfoy quite effectively._

_She came a long way from the no-nonsense, rule abiding girl from First Year. Hermione may be all about rules and books but she had a cruel streak as vindictive as a woman scorned. She proved that in Third Year (the Malfoy incident) and again this year. She willingly led Umbridge in to the Dark Forest, leaving the woman to suffer the human-hating centaurs._

_In the bowels of the Ministry, the Department of Mysteries, I found what caused my life to spiral downwards. Voldemort had been pushing to discover this little detail. _"S.P.T. to A.P.W.B.D. Dark Lord and (?) Harry Potter." (7) _A prophecy sphere with our names. The truth was unraveling. Why couldn't Dumbledore and the Order tell me this earlier? I deserved to know! I lost everything because of this secrecy! If I had been told from the beginning I wouldn't have lost you, Sirius!_

_How could you not take your cousin seriously?! Why didn't you? You knew they branded you a traitor! You knew they wished to kill you! You knew this but still you played with Bellatrix Lestrange! But you didn't seem to care, did you? You had me to live for! Me to love! You were my only family! The only one I would truly call family! You knew you were all I had to look forward to with the years I suffered with the Dursleys! You broke your promise! A promise you swore to me in my Fourth Year! You swore you would be careful! I loved you! I still love you and it hurts. Hurts! You left me! On purpose. You promised. If you had truly cared for me, loved me...me, your Godson...you wouldn't have died. You wouldn't have toyed with her. Wouldn't have taunted her. I still have nightmares of you falling, falling in the Veil. I still have nightmares of the torture I thought you supposedly suffered, bringing me running. I still see your blood mixing with Cedric's and Quirrell...you all blaming me for your deaths.//_

Harry paused in his writing, furiously rubbing at his eyes. Tears were falling rapidly, "Sirius." His whisper drifted in the dark, eyes closed in teary anger and sorrow. For the first time he allowed his anger at Sirius to flow free. Deeply breathing, he dipped his quill, ignoring the tears, determined to finish. He still had a year to go as well as to finish out his Fifth Year. _Here goes. Hold on, Harry. It's almost done._

_//I miss you. Every owl I see coming my way, I think you're alive. But Remus swears you're gone. Never to return. I want to see you again. And Mum. And Dad. Now, Remus is all I have. All I have left as a connection to this lost family. I'm afraid of what I'll do if I lose him too. I know, I still got Hermione and Ron. But they have a family. Family members, relatives, friends. They don't know what it's like to lose every single member of your family (especially before your very eyes) nor do they know what it's like to suffer the whims of the members left (ones that despise your very existence.)_

_What's left in this world worth protecting? Why should I? Innocents? Oh, but they suffer no matter what I do. They'll always suffer when I try to stop this war and take-over from ever happening. The innocent always suffer. Revenge? For what? You and the family? That won't bring either of you back to me. Death is death. Nothing can bring the dead back to life. Not the life they deserve or need. Myself? I'm losing what hope I have of winning this war. Nothing seems to be helping me. Maybe they are right. I'm only surviving because it's pure luck and something gets in the way. Soon I won't have anywhere to run or hide. My friends? I've lost a few already. What's to say I won't lose the rest of them by the end of the war? What? Pray tell, what is left to protect, to save? Is it worth it?_

_I destroyed his office after Dumbledore finally told me the entire truth. Everything everyone tried to hide from me has been revealed. But there is still one piece of the puzzle left and I wouldn't learn until my Sixth Year. He gave excuses to hold back the truth. Didn't he already know since my First Year that I never had a childhood nor would I ever have one? I deserved to know then but now I can't change the past without destroying what little future the present has._

_But if I did change it, could Voldemort actually take-over? Would it be easier for him? Guess I'll never know the truth. One day might come our freedom. One day might stop my nightmares. But that same freedom could be my death. Until then I will fight, remembering these words:_

"the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies...And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not...And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives...The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..." (8)

_I became the marked equal. I'm the most desired target. But I will still fight. At my side stands my friends, never willing to leave me be...Remus, who sees me as his cub, the last of his pack...the Order, who are determined to fight for what's right...the Weasleys, for I am the seventh son...Hogwarts, for she cares for her children as well as her children determined to fight back...and those who died, their spirits determined to avenge their deaths._

_The Order is determined to aide me in my fight...Light witches and wizards determined to place their life on the line to protect the world from everlasting Darkness. Fear of the known and unknown are powerful motivators. (Petunia knew this well...Dumbledore causes her fear considering the Howler he had sent and the truth he spoke.)//_

Emerald eyes stared at the last few paragraphs, "I will fight. To my last breath." He couldn't give in, not as much as he wished. He made too many promises and vows. To the dead, revenge...To his family, peace...To his friends, safety...To the innocent, freedom...To himself, a new life. They all deserved a chance...to survive, to live, to breathe without fear of bloodshed or hate.

Sighing, he began cleaning up, knowing that in a few hours his seventeenth birthday would arrive. Soon he would be free. Soon he would pursue his vow. Soon he would put an end to the bloodshed...to the fear. _I do feel much better, lighter. _Before he could replace everything, emerald eyes spied upon a small worn photo album. Settling upon his bed, Harry took his time searching the pictures. He allowed the tears to flow freely without stopping. He had added clippings and memorabilia to honor those not of his life. Cedric had a page dedicated to him. Those who died needlessly had a page dedicated to them. Hogwarts and every magical place had their spot. All creatures searching to survive were honored. Even the ones who were determined to end it all had a page. This was his way of knowing what was right and wrong. A way to renew his vigor and fire and determination to battle...to fight back...to struggle...to survive.

_I won't let this happen. Not until my very last breath._

Footnote: Quotes from J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix: Quote 1: Page 31...Quote 2: Page 40...Quote 3: Page 58...Quote 4: Page 78...Quote 5: Page 206-7...Quote 6: Page 266...Quote 7: Page 780...Quote 8: Page 841


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

Harry stared out his bedroom window. He wasn't ready for tomorrow to arrive. Nor was he ready for his seventeenth birthday. Soon he would be disappearing from Privet Drive with no knowledge of when he would ever return. Petunia knew he was almost an adult by magical standards and that he was leaving. But if Vernon had his way, Harry would be out faster than midnight could arrive. Turning from thoughts of leaving, he braced himself for the last saddened moments of his Sixth Year.

_//July 30th 8:30 p.m._

_Sixth Year---Truths, Schemes, and the Half-blood Prince September 1, 1996-June 1997 16 yrs. old_

_Only a few hours before my seventeenth birthday. Which is why I'm writing now. Something tells me it will begin the darkest moments the magical world has ever known. And I have yet to decide to see my last year pass me by despite my promise to Dumbledore and myself._

_Everything seemed to go as normal as possible. Breakfast...chores...lunch...chores...dinner...chores...shower...homework by flashlight...bed, only to do the same again the next day. Then one day I received an owl from the Headmaster. He was actually taking me from my protective home on a journey he must take and to leave me with my friends at the Weasleys (something we've always tried to do every summer.) I could only hope he was trying to keep his word and not let me out on the truth or any detail that dealt with my life.//_

Harry eyed his room, walls and floors bare. A couple hours earlier, Petunia had splayed an array of fresh fruits and chips with a side of various dips. This was his dinner; his stomach was rebelling against anything else and he really didn't want to be sick before leaving. The tray still sat on his bed, mostly untouched. Harry had spent the last three hours packing after helping Petunia with the basis for dinner that night.

His trunk was completely stuffed with just about everything he owned, most of it never saw the light of day since he returned to Privet Drive. _All packed and ready to go._ Deciding there wasn't much more to pack he snagged a couple apple slices and replaced the quill's nib against the partially empty page. _//Someone should be along soon. Until then I shall wait and write._

_When Dumbledore entered the house, I felt something wrong. My fear began to skyrocket as I caught a glimpse of his blackened hand. What could have caused that? Could Madame Pomfrey not cure him? Was it beyond her ability? What about St. Mungo's? Couldn't they help? He believed in Snape's mastery. Why couldn't Snape help?_

_After all St. Mungo's had healed Arthur after being bitten by Nagini. All Dumbledore said, well, basically he gave me a gentle brush-off for my concern. Then we were on our way._

_His journey, gaining a new Professor. Horace Slughorn. An old friend. I was curious as to why we were visiting him but with one mention of my mother I was quite excited that the man was coming to Hogwarts. _"Lily Evans. One of the brightest I ever taught. Vivacious, you know. Charming girl. I used to tell her she ought to have been in my House. Very cheeky answers I used to get back too." (1)

_For once I was hearing about her. Lily Evans-Potter. Rarely did I hear about my own mother (usually just that I have her green eyes.) I hoped to hear more but Dumbledore decided to leave. I may have been confused at first (didn't know Dumbledore was manipulating Slughorn into accepting) but it came apparent later. And I definitely wanted to know more about Mum._

_Sirius and Remus, as well as some others, usually spoke of Dad. The only time I'd hear about Mum was the fact that Dad fell for her, they married, had me, and died. Or with Petunia, that Lily was her sister, a witch, a freak, and the lies._

_Why wouldn't the Weasleys let Bill be happy? They all seemed to dislike Fleur. Ginny dares to call her Phlegm! I like Fleur. Oh, sure at first during the Tournament she seemed snobbish but I finally got to know the lovely blonde. She was sweet and caring. She loved her sister very much, willing to allow Gabrielle to have a very important part in her life or to travel with her should her sister wish. Besides, if Fleur made Bill happy, so be it. I was happy and willing to defend her as well as their decision to marry._

_But Molly was trying her best to set her own son with Tonks (Sirius' cousin disowned from the Black family...also a bit clumsy despite her being an Auror.) Everyone in that family (except maybe a tiny few) wanted Tonks to be a part of the family. None of them wanted to see Bill happy nor could they see past their own dislike of Fleur. They were trying their hardest to push Fleur away. Why? She wanted...actually made the effort to get along with the family. Must they make it so hard for her?_

_OWLs...Ordinary Wizarding Level...a test of our magical levels of study. We had studied all last year and practice years before. I did quite well in my classes but knew I wouldn't past my history or Divination classes. One was too easy to sleep through while the other was based on very, very few predictions but mainly tiny truths and faking visions. We all did our best and past. Next was our NEWTs. And I knew Hermione would be pushing the limit of studying._

_Draco Malfoy. My equal. My enemy. My rival. But during a trip to Diagon Alley, he seemed...off. Oh, he was his normal sarcastic self, picking on others. He just looked...awful. Diminished. Frightened. Nervous. I swore he had to be a Death Eater. Bearing the Dark Mark upon his arm. But maybe the others were right, he wasn't a true follower._

_But what scared him? What gave that sad look in his mother's eyes that day on the platform? Why were they both diminished? It couldn't be because Lucius was in prison, could it? They hid behind their masks...behind the _proper _behavior of a Malfoy. Something or someone had gotten to them. My only thought, Voldemort. And I felt it prudent to warn Arthur about Malfoy's behavior. It had drastically changed since Lucius' imprisonment._

_I resolved to keep a close eye on the diminished blonde. Easier said than done. Slughorn had begun hounding me. Reeling me in as his favorite, at least one of the few. Perhaps I'll learn more of Lily._

_At first I hadn't been sure about him. I hoped he would be capable in class. Imagine our surprise when Snape was announced as our DADA Professor and Slughorn our Potions Professor. I knew this year I would have a better chance of passing Potions than I would Defense. I still blamed Snape and Dumbledore for Sirius. Dumbledore had left, leaving me no one I trusted to tell me Sirius was safe. Snape hated my Godfather; I believed the man took his time as I fled for the Ministry._

_To me Snape was rewarded with the spot he coveted. Defense Against the Dark Arts. Oh, I still respected his spying status. One must when dealing with Voldemort, especially as he was an accomplished Legilimens. To lie and actually survive took courage and cunning. Snape had the qualities of a fool-hardy Gryffindor backed by the underhanded Slytherin to protect himself on this mission. Despite my respect, I prayed the cursed position would follow through. Hoped that Snape would leave willingly or unwillingly. And something in the back of my mind promised, Snape would be gone but not in the way I had wanted._

_My curiosity was about to take a trip. Mysteries I had questioned were about to be solved. One came to be when I was handed my new Potions textbook (thought I couldn't get in with an Exceeds Expectations but Snape wasn't teach...Slughorn allowed me entrance and gave me a textbook.) Someone had scribbled new instructions over the textbook procedures, even added curses and hexes that I had never heard of but desired to practice. Those new notes on steps of Potions making made things easier for me to possibly understand and create the perfect potion to pass the class._

_Oh, how Hermione ranted and raved. Why? I finally understood and brought my grade up, surpassing her as I made my potions better than hers. So, why care? I was finally passing without her harping. Okay, yes, I was cheating by using a used book with different instructions. Yes, someone wrote in it. Yes, I followed. But it gained the same results. That was good, right? It did feel strange to win. I had the best potion in our first class. _"Good lord, it's clear you've inherited your mother's talent. She was a dab hand at Potions, Lily was!" (2) _That was worth every second of cheating and the silent extra help._

_But the mystery that intrigued me, _"this book is the property of the Half-Blood Prince." (3) _We were all wondering who the half-blood prince was...she thought Voldemort since he was a half-blood. I had a different opinion. If Voldemort was the prince then he should have been able to create his own superb creations to lengthen his hopeful immortal life long before he had fallen by confronting the Potters._

_My second mystery that Dumbledore believed would help me win, Voldemort's past. We hoped to find some item...clue...to help me defeat Voldemort's existence from this world. All it took was searching through memories. I discovered much. He really was Salazar Slytherin's heir but only through his Pureblood mother._

_Merope Gaunt, a Pureblood witch living with her father and brother, had fallen for a handsome Muggle boy called Tom Riddle. She obsessed over him, even though he already had a sweetheart. In a way, I felt sorry Tom Riddle and his son. Merope had manipulated their lives for her selfish pleasure but she did reap what she sowed. Her husband had abandoned her soon after their marriage, returning home. _

_Not only was I learning of Merope Gaunt's deception and Voldemort's life, Dumbledore was leading me to something more serious than defeat. I had shuddered to think what it could be. Could there be a clue...a power..an item..that would forever destroy Voldemort? I also knew this. To destroy him, we had to vanquish his soul. He already survived fourteen years as a spirit tied to this planet. Unicorn blood and Nagini's venom were simply extra help to keep him alive. But I knew Voldemort wasn't stupid. He obviously had some other means to remain. How else did he survive the backlash of magic that October night, long before the blood and venom? It was some item, some thing, that would be the step in his ultimate downfall. That same item that had blackened Dumbledore's hand and had to do with a certain piece of jewelry I had noticed belonging Merope's father but in the Headmaster's possession. I knew there had to be a connection. But what? What exactly could Voldemort need with jewelry?_

_At one time I had thoy thought Cho was my true love but it was only a crush. Sure I still felt some feelings towards her. She's a lovely girl unless her emotions get the better of her. But lately I had begun to notice someone I once thought of as a fellow friend. This same person was making my heart leap just as Cho had. I began watching her as everything around me was slowly falling in to place. And when she vanished from my side, I missed her. I was jealous of Michael Corner until she left him. And now I was jealous of Dean Thomas until she left him. Ginny Weasley._

_Ginny's much like Hermione. Both were my friends until some force caused me to see them in a new light. Hermione was a logical reader and learner until she wore a feminine dress of pink flowing silk at the Yule Ball. She was beautiful with her hair curled, tied back in a loose knot while pieces framed her face. Her eyes lit her face with creamy beauty, lips plump and curved. Hermione was beautiful on the outside as she was on the inside and still my best friend._

_Ginny was a fiery tempered little girl, the baby sister of Ron. This year I saw how lovely Ginny really was. Fiery strands of red hair flowed about her, hinting at a hot temper backed with a vicious bat-boogey curse. Clear eyes sparkled with her laughter and anger, lips curved in a bright smile or predatory smirk. Creamy flesh shimmering with a reddish pink flush as her heated attitude beamed from a little girl growing in to her womanhood._

_I had begun to notice the fairer sex even more this year, not realizing many were noticing me as well. _"It's not Quidditch that's popular, it's you! You've never been more interesting, and frankly, you've never been more fanciable." (4) _Since telling the truth and the new Minister (Fudge had been forced to leave his seat this year...how I celebrated but didn't really like the new Minister...the new one wanted me on his side and under his power as well but I refused) confirming my stories, I've just noticed people constantly vying for my attention. I've gone from servant boy to Harry Potter to savior-turned-delusional to the Chosen One._

_I was the one everyone was noticing. I thanked the skies that I had close friends who saw me as Harry. Just Harry. A loyal friend, adopted family member, and a regular teenager. One day I hope the world would also see me as Harry. I'll hold my breath until then. For now I'll play my part. The hope...the savior...the chosen one. I will do all it takes to protect the innocent children, both Muggle and Magical._

_To do that, I read every handwritten scribble in my used textbook. Kept up in my lessons with Dumbledore. The clues began to add up. The textbook had belonged to someone I knew. One spell in particular I had seen...Levicorpus. The same one Dad used against Snape...held him up-side-down by his ankles with magic. At first when I found that spell I was thinking of my Dad. But I remembered, Dad was a Pureblood wizard. So, not him. This person was Half-blood. The only other ones that could have known were Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, Severus Snape, and Lily Evans._

_Lily was a female. That ruled her out. It said a prince and she was actually a Muggleborn as well. So, not her._

_Sirius Black was a disowned Pureblood. It could have been him but like Dad, the bloodline wasn't right. So, not him._

_Remus Lupin was a werewolf. He could barely afford the Wolfsbane potion. He didn't have the ability to create that complex potion every month. But I believe he was also a Half-blood. Still, he's not a Potions expert, well, not a Master. So, not him._

_Peter Pettigrew was one of two guesses. But Voldemort had told Pettigrew about his resurrection potion and how to create it. Pettigrew was a coward and weak, according to those of his school years. He couldn't be the Half-Blood Prince because he barely realized that common rats don't live for thirteen years. He cowered before any type of authority so he couldn't possibly be a Potions Master. So, it couldn't be him, right?_

_And then there was Severus Snape. A Potions Master and suffered that spell. I truly thought he was the prince! But then again...why brag about mixed blood when he had joined with the Death Eaters? He joined a group bent on Pureblood ideals, right? Or did he suspect Voldemort of being a half-blood and hid his blood heritage the same way? So, it couldn't be him either, right?_

_Two choices and the only one my gut was leaning towards was Snape. But who was the true Half-Blood Prince? Or was it really Voldemort and I was wrong in my theories?_

_Seeing Voldemort at age eleven, well, that was an eye-opener and put a damper on things. Without knowing his magical heritage, Voldemort knew he was different and could do anything he wished. He even knew how to manipulate others by using the tone of his voice and eye contact. And he was proud! He even dared to force Dumbledore to his selfish bidding! _

"He showed his contempt for anything that tied him to other people, anything that made him ordinary. Even then, he wished to be different, separate, notorious." "Tom Riddle was already highly self-sufficient, secretive, and, apparently, friendless." "He preferred to operate alone. The adult Voldemort is the same. You will hear many of his Death Eaters claiming that they are in his confidence, that they alone are close to him, even understand him. They are deluded. Lord Voldemort has never had a friend, nor do I believe that he has ever wanted one." (5)

_Ironic. I can't always remember my studies for tests or essays but I can remember quotes of others throughout my sixteen years. Hermione would be stunned and then demand, even lecture, that I use my skill in class. Ah, but that's life. Fate has a fickle sense of humor. At least that's what I believe. _

_Of the memories I have seen, where is that clue? So, he was sadistic...an evil little bully. That gives me nothing to work with. Does Dumbledore exqect expect me to shower Voldemort with hugs and kisses, friendship, love??? What about mercy? Those are definite powers he knows not. Would they work, dear Headmaster? Huh? Or did the Fates desire some other power?_

_You know, I always thought Christmas was a time for family. Oh, I may have had bad examples with the Dursleys but at least I would sympathize with Fleur and Tonks. The Weasleys were desperate for a break-up. Molly dared to push Bill on Tonks or Tonks on Bill. When will they realize that Fleur and Bill are happy? I felt bad for Fleur. The Weasleys were practically treating her as the Dursleys would me! If I wasn't sure about the two, I would go along with the family but she didn't deserve it either way. No one does. I doubt they'll realize that any time soon. Then again, all but Molly were pushing away Percy._

_Percy Weasley. Left Hogwarts for a career in the Ministry. I was happy for him. He was trying to make a new name for the Weasleys, prove what they were worth. So, what? He was trying. And then the downfall. He had sided with ex-Minister Fudge on many occasions, especially against me. He tried to make them see things their way. He desired to protect them. That I couldn't fault him. I would have done the same if it was my family. Why couldn't they see that? I don't like his methods of protecting his family. Nor do I like his high-and-mighty attitude. But I respected his desire to keep those he loved safe._

_Now the strange jewelry. Horcruxes. The two became a puzzle piece with a missing memory from Slughorn (or the same memory he had altered to keep himself in a better and brighter light.) The Horcrux was a type of advanced form of Dark magic. I wouldn't put it past Voldemort. He wanted domination, as do all rulers and hopeful tyrants. They all wish immortality to establish and continue their unchallenged reign. But the Horcrux worried me. I knew it was a clue, one Dumbledore refused to explain. Apparently I must discover the answers myself. Answers that belong to Slytherin's artifacts...the jewelry...and the sudden need for a Horcrux._

"You've got nerve, boy! Oh, you're like your mother." "That's the individual spirit a real potion-maker needs! Just like his mother, she had the same intuitive grasp of potions-making." (6)

_Helga Hufflepuff. One of the four Founders. She had a descendant of her bloodline. With this descendant was a powerful treasure, a small golden cup with an engraved badger. Not only that, the woman had one of Slytherin's treasures...a locket I believe. Voldemort had not been happy that she held those items, returning at night to claim them and end the bloodline with the woman's poisonous demise._

_Why? What was so interesting about these items that would grant Voldemort domination, let alone immortality? Had they been a means for Horcruxes? If so, how is one created? I needed Slughorn's true memory._

"Very brave...Very funny..." (7) _Oh, Mum._

_How is it when one drinks their lips move easily? Slughorn was one. It was easy to keep his attention. All I did was slip in a memory of Voldemort going after my mother and he remembered her being brave. In return, my answers._

_Now I understood. He was embarrassed. He had unknowingly helped Voldemort achieved his immortality. He unknowingly aided Voldemort with the process of splitting one's soul. He trusted his favorite student, hoping against hope. There are seven, seven Horcruxes! Slughorn had believed that seven would have been dangerous, impossible. His student had believed it would make him powerful to have such a high number._

_These were the ones Dumbledore and I could guess. One: Tom Riddle's diary in my Second Year...destroyed by me (pierced by a poisonous Basilisk fang.) Two: Salazar Slytherin's ring...destroyed by Dumbledore (I guess when he retrieved it, his hand suffered.) Three: Slytherin's locket (possibility since he went through the trouble of stealing it from Hufflepuff's descendant.) Four: Helga Hufflepuff's cup (same as the locket.) Five: Nagini, his familiar (possible--she was his aide before the resurrection potion and always at his side as well as had been possessed by Voldemort when she bit Arthur.) Six: Voldemort himself (possible---he regained his human form and suffered fourteen years as a roaming spirit.)_

_Dumbledore could only guess that six had been created. But we knew he was determined to obtain seven all together. So, what could the seventh one be? And I'm terrified. Voldemort had come after my family before he was banished from mortal flesh. I'm fearful that the seventh is me. He failed to kill me, linking us together through my scar. Or would I be the sixth? He survived as a spirit and I suffered him through our link._

_To destroy Voldemort means to obliterate his Horcrues...six of them if Dumbledore is right. But we tried guessing what the possible seventh could be. A treasure of Ravenclaw...a treasure of Gryffindor. Why not? He already had Slytherin's and Hufflepuff's. I can only hope there are only six. I have no desire to die trying to destroy Voldemort, even if it means seeing my family again. James Potter, Lily Evans, and Sirius Black._

_I had known Malfoy was up to something. No one else would believe me or dare to try anything. A deed he must perform was tearing at his soul. I spent six years fighting against him and he against me. We pretty much knew each other well. I knew if Voldemort had gotten to Malfoy, then Malfoy was after someone, a target he must destroy. Oh, I didn't realize the absolute truth until it was too late. _

_I suspected. I believed. Snape and Malfoy had a secret, something with an Unbreakable Vow. One that angered Malfoy. Snape had promised someone to watch over the small blonde, to aide him in any possible way. I trusted him. I respected him. I believed in Dumbledore._

_How could Dumbledore trust the one man who gave Voldemort half the prophecy Trelawney had predicted? How could he believe the man who helped set up my parents? How?! How could you?! Snape hated my father! He hated Sirius! He hated Remus! And two of the three were now dead, Dumbledore! Dead!! But you still stuck by your precious story. You trusted a spy! A Master of Occlumency! Did you ever question him with Veritaserum? Why not have the Ministry do it? Or did you stand by him because you failed him when Sirius sent Snape to Remus on a full moon night?_

_What do we do now?_

_I've learned much. I suspected Snape of many things but I gave him the benefit of doubt. For you! You! How I wish things went differently. I had been happy. Learning of Mum. Succeeding in Potions. Gaining knowledge to destroy Voldemort. Falling in love and gaining Ginny as my girlfriend. And like it always does for me. (I swear Fate and Destiny are determined I suffer.) Life fell apart. The truth came free. _

_You knew, didn't you? You knew and decided to believe a Death Eater. How? Why? Please tell me. I wish to know. _

_We had gone for the third Horcrux. I forced you to drink the goblet's liquid for the locket at the bottom. I had hoped all would be well. My instinct screaming loudly, pounding on the mental barrier, telling me to run, run back to Hogwarts. Things were wrong. All year they had been wrong. People suffered. Everyone suffered and here we were. I cried as you suffered the liquid. I wonder if it could have been a trap. Did you know it was a trap?_

_Hogwarts had been stormed by Death Eaters. Malfoy led them into the school through an enchanted object within the Room of Requirement. He was ready to fulfill his promise but froze at the last minute. You could see it, couldn't you? Malfoy didn't want to be a killer. He didn't want to be his father. Did he? He wanted the fame, yes. He wanted to prove himself, yes. But he didn't want to be someone's servant, did he?_

_You bound me beneath my cloak, knowing I would try and save you. Why couldn't you let me save you? I wanted to save you. I needed you! Now all I can see is my parents with you in their place. A flash of green and death. Anger and fury refuse to let me forget._

_You begged! Begged! Why? You refused to bow to Malfoy, forcing yourself to remain calm and standing. Talked...chatted. You seemed as if you were waiting for someone else. I had hoped a rescue when your precious spy stalked inside. Robes flying and snapping, the Dark Angel of Mercy. But it wasn't to be was it?_

_How could you, Snape? He loved you...trusted you..believed in you. You abused it! You took Malfoy's side! You ran with them! Why?! How could you?! What were you thinking? Was it worth it? Did you pretend to be Dumbledore's friend in hopes of helping your Master? Were you ashamed of your past? Did you think Voldemort would overlook it? Did you hope for the fame and glory? Like Voldemort you had Muggle and Pureblood running through your veins. Did you lie to him about your parentage? Believe in that Pureblood crap? You destroyed everyone's hope and belief in you. And I will find you both. Dumbledore didn't deserve a cold hearted death. _

_But something gnaws at the edges. Why did he beg? Why you? Malfoy couldn't kill him. The other Death Eaters never got the chance. Why did he talk so calmly? Why have spoken words if he knew his death was coming? But one look at you and he pleaded. For death? For mercy? For help? For what? Did he already know? Was Hagrid right? Did you and Dumbledore set this up, hoping to cement your spying status?_

_And now I've confused myself. I know what I saw. I know what I heard. I know what I felt. I know what I believe. But was any of it correct? _

_Without a doubt, now, I will be going for the last Horcruxes._

_I left Ginny to her own future. I refused to drag her along. Everyone associated with me suffers and I wanted to save her from that. I suffered watching the funeral, knowing I was the only one with the truth. Everyone had paid him their last respects. Centaurs, Merpeople, Hogwarts students and Professors, Ministry Officials, and the public. We all could swear that the Phoenixes were paying their respect as well._

_A white burial tomb is all that's left of the great Albus Dumbledore. And those of us left behind had tears but very few were determined._

_Bill suffered in the attack. And the Weasleys got the message. Molly thought her dream would come true, though she worried. Bill had been attacked by Fenrir Greyback, the same man who made Remus a werewolf. Bill would life, scars and wolfish characteristics his only setbacks of the battle. Fleur proved everyone wrong. She didn't care for the scars nor his looks. She cared for him. She was determined to wed._

_Tonks was as determined, about Remus. I was happy for my guardian. Remus was the last link to my family, if not actually familial ties. He had become my true guardian and family in the sense of kinship. We suffer in different ways but try to help the other. He deserved to be loved, especially by someone not scared by his wolfish outbreak once a month. He needed all the happiness he could get, all the love._

_Despite Dumbledore's death, the Order was ready to fight. McGonagall refused to close the school. If any wish to return, they may. But I believe many will come to Hogwarts looking for sanctuary and safety. _

_But I, I will keep my promise, my vow, my word to Dumbledore. I will hunt down the Horcruxes. And at my side (despite my misgivings...wanted them as far from me and safe as possible) Hermione and Ron will take the travel. Together we will destroy the Horcruxes, avenge Dumbledore, and vanquish Voldemort. At least that's our plan._

_If you can hear my plea, Mum, Dad, Sirius, Dumbledore, please help me. Give me the means and strength to continue this battle. We need your aide in winning. Please, help us._

_I love you all and miss you all very much.//_

Harry sighed. It was done. All his burdens had been eased in the pages of his mother's journal. He felt free and determined. "Almost time." Emerald eyes stared out into the dark, starry, night sky. His decision had been made months ago. Now he was sure he made the right one. He would leave the Dursleys behind, visit the place that began the nightmare, Godric's Hollow, appear for Bill's wedding at the Burrow, and then he would disappear. He didn't know where he was going. He only hoped something would come along and lead him in the right direction.

"Harry?" He turned to face his aunt, nodding. She gave a tight smile, "The door is unlocked. Vernon and I will watch out for your friends."

He watched the bedroom door slowly close. Earlier, he mentioned Hermione and Ron's arrival later that night. His seventeenth birthday would begin the crumbling of his protective wards. But he hoped his family had a back-up plan when he walked away, possibly forever. For now, he returned to the stars, _I will end this. One way or another, it will end. I will find my answers._

The door slowly creaked open; he hadn't realized time had passed. "Harry?"

A soft smile crossed his lips as he turned to face his two best friends, standing with a grip on his journal. "Hello, Ron, Hermione." It was time for their plan to be kicked in to gear. Time for them to leave and begin the final journey of the raging war between Dark and Light.

Footnote: J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter and The Half-Blood Prince: Quote 1: Page 70…….Quote 2: Page 191…….Quote 3: Page 193……….Quote 4: Page 219……Quote 5: Page 277…..Quote 6: Page 378…..Quote 7: Page 489


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